Day Break
by Nunda
Summary: Casey keeps waking up to the same day. But why? And more importantly, what can she do to save the ones she loves?
1. Day One

Day Break

by Nunda

**Summary**: Casey keeps waking up to the same day. But why? And more importantly, what can she do to save the ones she loves?

**A.N**. In this story, George is a prosecutor and Dennis (Casey's dad) is a detective with the NYPD. Just letting y'all know, I changed their job titles a little bit. ;)

**Disclaimer**: I do not own "Life With Derek" and I got the story idea from a great ABC show starring sexilicious Taye Diggs. (This disclaimer covers all chapters, mmmKay?)

**Day One**

**8:31 A.M.**

The morning sun filtered through Casey MacDonald's curtains, casting a pink glow over her bedroom. Casey stretched and sat up in bed. The house was eerily quiet. Then she remembered the reason for the quietness: her mother and George were taking the younger kids to the day-long Family Festival in Toronto.

Casey had been going to the festival herself ever since she could remember but this year, it fell on Emily's birthday. And like a good best friend, Casey stayed behind.

Casey smiled when she remembered Derek had spent the night with Sam so they could ride to an early morning hockey practice together. She had the whole house to herself.

Eager to get her day started, Casey took the stairs two at a time. But on the last step, she tripped over one of Lizzie's hockey skates, and fell, twisting her ankle.

"Ow." Casey held her ankle. She was glad Derek wasn't here to call her Klutzilla. Although, her ankle was throbbing with pain, Casey was sure it would be okay. She got up and hobbled her way into the kitchen.

Casey found a note from her mom on the kitchen island.

'_Casey, Keep the door locked and don't answer it for strangers. There's some money in my sock drawer for pizzas tonight. Have fun with Emily today. And call me if you need me. Love, Mom. P.S.—Marti says to give Smerek a hug for her.'_

Casey laughed. _Nice try, Marti, but it's not happening. _She crumpled the note up and threw it in the garbage.

Casey turned on the radio to her favorite morning show, and began to make herself some pancakes.

**9:13 A.M.**

Casey was clearing away her breakfast dishes when the phone rang.

"Hello?" Casey answered.

"Don't you have something to say to me?" The voice demanded.

"Happy birthday, Emily!" Casey said. "Do you feel any older now that you're seventeen?"

"Mmmno." Emily said. "Not really."

"I told you." Casey said. She'd turned seventeen about a month before.

"I can't believe Derek's almost eighteen." Emily said.

"Do you have to relate everything to him?" Casey said, annoyed. "Besides, he doesn't turn eighteen for another five months."

"I can't help it." Emily said. "Your brother's a hottie."

"Step-brother." Casey said automatically. "What about Sheldon? Your boyfriend?"

"Oh, you know, hetoldmehelovedme."

"What?" Casey shrieked. "You said it back, right?"

"Yeah." Emily beamed. "He brought my gift over this morning and just said it."

"I'm happy for you, Em." Casey said. "I'll bring your gift from me over this afternoon."

"I'm in no rush." Emily said.

"Oh, Em, I have a beep—it's my mom. I'll call you later."

After Emily said goodbye, Casey clicked the phone over to the call waiting.

"Mom?" Casey said.

"Casey? Hey, I'm on the cell. It's not getting a good signal so if I go out, I'll call you back later."

"Okay." Casey said. "Are you guys there yet?"

"We're stuck in some major traffic." Nora said. "But we're…hotel. How's….going?"

"Mom, you're breaking up." Casey said. "Everything's going good. I just got out of bed."

Casey waited for a reply but only heard static.

"Mom?"

Casey waited for a few more seconds before she finally hung up.

**11:45 A.M.**

Casey was upstairs getting dressed when she heard the front door slam.

"Derek?" Casey called out.

"Where's Nora? I'm hungry." She heard him say.

Casey walked to the top of the stairs. Derek was discarding his jacket on the coat rack. She looked at him incredulously.

"You have two legs and a heartbeat." Casey said. "Go in there and make your own lunch. Besides, Mom and George took the kids to the Family Festival in Toronto. They won't be back until tomorrow."

"Oh, yeah." A smile spread across Derek's face. "Party at my place."

"Uh, no." Casey followed him into the kitchen. She grabbed the phone away from him.

"Hey!" He yelled. "Give that back!"

"You're not having a party here tonight. Remember the last time?"

Derek stopped for a moment. "Yeah." He said. "Locked all night in the bathroom with you." He visibly shuddered. "You're right. Now give me the phone so I can order a pizza."

Casey glanced at him questioningly and was about to answer him when the phone rang in her hands.

"Hello?" Casey answered it, sticking her tongue out at Derek.

"Is this the MacDonald-Venturi residence?" The voice on the phone said.

"Yes." Casey said, alarmed. Derek was reaching for the phone and Casey kept swatting him away.

"This is Sgt. Ellis with the Toronto Police Department." He said. "There's been a terrible accident."

Casey's hand flew to her mouth and fear choked her voice as she said, "They're okay, right?"

Derek quit trying to fight for the phone and looked at her with concern. Something in his gut told him that nothing was going to be okay.

"I'm sorry ma'am." Sgt. Ellis's voice cracked. "They died on impact."

"All of them?" Casey cried.

"All of them." He confirmed. "I need someone to come and identify the bodies this afternoon at St. Mary's Hospital."

Casey nodded, as if he could see her. She hung the phone up and sank to the floor.

"What's going on?" Derek demanded.

"They died on impact." She repeated.

"On impact? They?" Derek was trying to piece the story together. "Dad and Nora?"

Casey nodded.

"Lizzie and Edwin?" Derek was pacing.

Casey nodded again, tears streaming down her face.

"Smarti?" He said numbly.

"Yes." Casey said. "We have to identify the bodies."

"You're lying." Derek said. He looked pale, like he was going to be sick.

Casey shook her head—tears were already streaming down her face.

Derek sat on one of the barstools in front of Casey, who was still in the floor.

"I can't do that." He whispered. He was obviously in shock.

"I'll do it." Casey said bravely. She was having a hard time believing it too, even though she was the one who took the phone call. "Do you think Sam could drive us?"

"I'll drive us." Derek said.

"Derek, you are in no condition to be driving." Casey said. He was shaking all over.

Knowing that Casey was right, but not willing to admit it, Derek took the phone and dialed Sam's number.

**12:58 P.M.**

Sam kept his eyes on the road as he drove Casey and Derek to St. Mary's Hospital in Toronto.

"How could this happen?" Derek said from the front passenger's seat. "Dad's a great driver."

"Maybe it wasn't his fault." Casey said.

"Although, there was that one time he scratched the Davis's car." Derek said, ignoring Casey. "Tell your dad sorry, Emily."

Emily, in the back seat with Casey, turned her attention to Derek, "Don't worry about it, Derek. My dad wasn't mad."

"I'm sorry for ruining your birthday." Casey said. "But I couldn't do this alone."

"Casey, you are my best friend. I'm here for you whenever you need me no matter what day it is. Besides, this is a little more important than a birthday." Emily replied. She was holding Casey's hand in her own.

**2:45 P.M.**

Sam dropped Casey and Emily off at the front entrance of the hospital while he and Derek found a parking space.

They walked to the front desk and Emily got directions to the morgue. Casey was shaking all over as they took the elevator down to the morgue. Emily wrapped her arms around Casey.

"Don't leave me in there by myself, Em." Casey said.

"I won't." Emily promised.

The elevator opened to a brightly lit floor, contrary to dark hallways shown on TV.

Casey checked in at the front desk. "I'm here to identify the bodies of my family." Casey said, unsurely.

"I need to see some identification." The woman behind the desk said.

Casey reached into her purse, looking for her I.D. when the elevator screeched open again. It was Derek and Sam.

"Wait!" Derek said. "I'm going with you."

Casey handed her I.D. through the glass.

"Miss MacDonald?"

Casey nodded.

"And he is?"

"Derek Venturi." Derek answered as he handed his I.D. through the glass as well.

"Yes, the MacDonald-Venturi's. Come right this way." The woman stood up and led them through a doorway. Sam and Emily followed for moral support.

"Such a tragedy." The woman said. "The reports say the van came out of nowhere."

Casey saw Derek clenching his fists. "What about the driver of the van?" Derek asked.

"They're still investigating but witnesses say the white van fled the scene." She led them through one more door. Behind this door were rows and rows of big metal drawers. Casey felt sick to her stomach.

"So he's still alive?" Derek questioned.

"Yes." She answered. She took four gowns and masks down from a cupboard and handed them to the teens. "Put these on."

They hurriedly put the gowns on over their clothes, and pulled the masks over their faces. Casey caught sight of the woman's nametag. Dr. Karen Whitaker.

Dr. Whitaker grabbed a clipboard with the names that corresponded to each drawer. Pulling her mask down over her mouth and nose, she pulled out the first drawer. It was Nora. This was a like a punch in the stomach to Casey. She nodded her head and turned away until she heard the drawer shut.

"The next one is George Venturi." Dr. Whitaker said. Casey heard the metallic grind of the drawer opening. But she didn't look. She saw Derek gravely nod his head and then Casey blacked out.

**3:36 P.M.**

Casey awoke on a cot in an unfamiliar office. Derek was sitting in a chair across from her; his eyes were focused on something behind Casey.

"Hey." Casey said.

Derek turned and faced her, "You're awake."

"I guess I passed out." Casey rubbed the back of her head. It was throbbing. Casey sat up and Derek rushed to her side to help her up.

"Dr. Whitaker said you just had a mild concussion and that you'd be alright." Derek said. "This is her office."

"I'm sorry." Casey said. "I left you by yourself."

"Hey," Derek said, slipping an arm around Casey's waist and helping her out of the office. "You couldn't help it."

"Ah, she's awake." Dr. Whitaker said. She was sitting behind the first desk again. "You had quite a fall. Do you feel okay? No dizziness or nausea?"

Casey shook her head no. "Where's Emily and Sam?"

"They went to get some coffee." Derek said. "Let's meet them up there. Thank you, Dr. Whitaker."

"Make sure the funeral director gets that paperwork I gave you." She said, sitting back down at the front desk.

Derek nodded and pressed the button for the elevator.

"Are we really going to do this?" Casey said.

"What?" Now that Casey had regained her strength, he was standing in the opposite corner of the elevator.

"Bury our family. By ourselves? Don't we need to call someone?"

"I've already called your aunt Fiona and my mom." He said. "They'll be at our house by tomorrow morning."

"Oh." Casey said. "I guess we won't be seeing each other much anymore."

"Don't be crazy." Derek said. "Of course we will. I can't get rid of you that easily."

He smiled briefly at Casey, and for a moment, Casey smiled, too.

The elevator doors opened with a ding and Sam and Emily were on the other side, with four cups of coffee.

"We were just on our way down." Sam said, handing a cup to Derek.

"You had me worried." Emily said, handing a cup to Casey.

"I'm fine." Casey said, taking a sip of the dark brown liquid. Normally, she didn't drink much coffee, but she was grateful for the warmth.

**6:15 P.M.**

Casey, Derek, Emily, and Sam sat at the dining table with the phone in the middle. It had been ringing off the hook and Sam and Emily were taking turns answering the phone, fielding the calls for Derek and Casey from distant relatives wishing condolences.

Casey stood up and walked up to her room, carefully avoiding the family photos that lined the walls. She went to her closet and dug around in some things she had piled in the bottom.

"What are you doing?" Derek asked from her doorway.

"Looking for Emily's gift." She said.

"Oh." He came in and sat on Casey's bed. Lacing his fingers behind his head he fell back on Casey's pillows.

"You know," Derek said. "This house will be paid off in a year."

"And?" Casey looked up from her closet floor. Finally she pulled out a small box wrapped in brightly colored birthday paper.

"And," He propped up on an elbow. "We could keep living here like normal. My mom could move in and help pay bills. And you could finish high school with all of your friends."

"I don't know." Casey said, standing up. "I mean, my dad will probably want me to move in with him in New York. Not that he'll ever have time for me."

Derek rolled his eyes. He hated Dennis MacDonald with a passion.

"Just think about it. Okay?" He asked.

"Okay." She promised.

They went back downstairs and Casey handed the gift-wrapped box to Emily.

"You didn't have to." Emily said.

"Just please open it. Give me some normalcy." Casey said sitting next to her at the table.

Emily dug into the paper and opened the box. Inside was a real pearl necklace with an 'E' charm dangling from the center.

"I love pearls!" Emily exclaimed.

"I know." Casey smiled.

"This must've cost a fortune!" Emily was busy putting the necklace on.

"Not really. It belonged to my Grandma Elizabeth. It was supposed to get passed down to Lizzie, but it was too girly for her and she said you should have it on your birthday. So it's really from the both of us." Casey explained.

"I can't accept this." Emily said, suddenly feeling bad. "This belongs to your family."

"Lizzie wanted you to have it. It's her last gift to you. You have to take it." Casey's eyes were wide as she tried to hold back tears. Emily jumped up and wrapped her arms around her best friend.

"Thank you so much. I will cherish it forever."

**9:58 P.M.**

Casey yawned loudly and looked over at Derek. They were sitting in the living room floor in their pajamas with an empty pizza box between them.

"I can't stay up any longer but I don't want to go to sleep." She said.

"I know what you mean." Derek said, leaning up against the couch.

"Maybe we should sleep down here?" Casey suggested.

"Why?" Derek looked at her like she was crazy.

"Just in case Abby or Fiona show up early, I want to hear them knocking." Casey said.

"Okay," Derek said. "I'll take my recliner and you can have the couch."

Casey got a couple of blankets from the linen closet and Derek turned out the lights.

"Goodnight, Casey." Derek said. He draped his arm over the side of the couch to squeeze her shoulder.

"Goodnight." Casey said.

Derek kept his hand on her shoulder the whole time they slept.

Review, please.


	2. Day Two

**Day Break**

**by Nunda**

**Day Two**

**8:31 A.M.**

Casey awoke in her bedroom. Confused, she got out of bed and stretched. How did she get in her bed? Did Derek put her there? And where was Derek? He'd better be cooking breakfast.

Casey sleepily thumped down the stairs, and when she got to the bottom step, she tripped on Lizzie's hockey skate.

"Again?!" Casey cried out and held her ankle. Talk about déjà vu. She threw the skate across the room before pulling herself up off the floor.

Casey walked into the kitchen, at least expecting to see Derek sitting at the island with a cup of coffee. Derek wasn't there but what _was_ there shocked her. Laying on the countertop, just the same as it was yesterday, was the note Nora had left for Casey.

"I thought I threw this away." Casey picked the note up and turned it over. Even if Derek had seen it in the trash and took it out, it should have been wrinkled. Suddenly Casey felt like throwing up. Maybe someone was torturing her?

Casey shook her head; _Maybe I just think I threw it away yesterday. _

Not in the mood to cook, Casey poured herself a bowl of cereal. Deciding that a long, hot bath was in order, Casey went upstairs and started a bubble bath.

Sinking down into the warm water, it didn't take her long to drift into a light nap.

**9:15 A.M.**

The phone rang, waking Casey from her nap. Noticing that Derek obviously, hadn't made it back home, Casey braced herself, and answered the cordless phone laying next to the tub.

"Don't you have something to say to me?"

"Emily?" Casey asked.

"Yes, silly." Emily giggled. "It's my birthday. Don't tell me you forgot?"

Casey sat straight up. "Your birthday was yesterday Emily. Remember? The necklace?"

Emily laughed again, "I should know when my own birthday is and it was not yesterday."

"Emily, yesterday was your birthday! Remember, I stayed home from my family's trip for your birthday? Then they all died and we had to go identify their dead bodies?"

"Casey, I don't know if you forgot to take your medication this morning but that's not funny."

"I'm not laughing." Casey said. "My family died yesterday."

"I just saw them this morning leaving out for Toronto." Emily said.

Casey hung up the phone. What was Emily's problem? When did she become an insensitive bitch?

Emily's words shook her to the core. What if they did leave this morning? What if yesterday was just a bad dream? No. Casey shook the thoughts from her mind. The glass imbedded in Nora's face was not just a bad dream, as much as she'd like for it to be.

Immediately, the phone began ringing in Casey's hands.

"Em, I'm sorry." She said.

"Casey, it's mom."

Casey's blood ran cold and she felt her body involuntarily shaking.

"Mom!" The floodgates opened and Casey began crying hysterically into the phone.

"Casey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, just a bad dream." She said.

"We're stuck in some major traffic." Nora said. Then the phone began breaking up. "But we're…hotel. How's….going?"

"Mom!" Casey yelled into the phone. "No Mom, pull off the road now! There's going to be a major accident!"

Casey listened frantically for a reply but the line was already dead.

Casey slammed the phone down and raced to her room, too panicked to even bother with a towel. She found yesterday's jeans and threw them on over her pj shorts and slipped on a pair of old tennis shoes.

Sam's house was only a block away. Maybe if she and Derek got there early enough, they could prevent their parent's deaths.

**9:32 A.M.**

Casey arrived at Sam's house in record time. She sighed in relief to see Derek's truck still parked in the driveway. She ran to the front door and began knocking as loud as she could.

Sam answered the door almost immediately.

"Casey, what are you doing here? D and I were about to go to practice." He said.

"I need to talk to Derek." She said, walking through the front door.

"He's getting out of the shower now."

Casey ran upstairs to the bathroom with Sam following behind.

"Cover up what you don't want me to see." Casey said as she barged through the door.

"Get out of here!" Derek yelled, wrapping a towel around his wet body.

"I need the keys to your truck!" She said quickly.

"Are you crazy, Casey?" Derek said grabbing her shoulders.

"It's important!" Casey said, shrugging his hands off of her shoulders.

"Oh please, do tell." Derek said rolling his eyes.

"Mom and George are going to be in a terrible accident. It's going to kill them all. I have to get there now."

"Oh, no." Derek said sarcastically, his eyes wide. Casey held her hand out for the keys. Then Derek said, "You are crazy."

He shoved her out of the bathroom and slammed the door shut. Before Casey could bust back into the bathroom, she heard the click of the lock.

"Derek!" Casey pounded on the door. "I'm being serious! I've lived this day before. I have seen our families' cold, dead bodies."

The door flung open. Derek had his jeans on now, but was still bare-chested. He was glaring at Casey.

"I don't know what the hell is wrong with you," He said in a warning tone. "But you need some serious help."

"Yes, Derek, help me." Casey said. "Give me the keys and I will get help."

He shook his head. "I've got hockey practice to go to. I don't have time to sort out your many mental issues."

"Casey." It was Sam. Casey turned to face the stairs where Sam was standing. "Can I get you something? A cup of tea perhaps?"

He put an arm around Casey's shoulders and led her downstairs and Derek stared at them in disbelief.

"You believe me, don't you Sam?" Casey asked when they reached his living room.

"Well, you _do_ sound convincing." Sam said. Even though he and Casey have been apart for almost a year now, he still cared about her. "Sit here on the couch and I'll get you some tea."

Casey nodded and sank down into the couch. She glanced beside her and noticed Derek's hockey bag. Stricken with an idea, Casey ran her hands through the side pockets of his bag until her fingers slid across metal.

Sam came out of the kitchen, carrying a tray with two cups of steaming hot water and an assortment of teas.

"I brought a sample of each tea so you could choose…Casey?" He set the tray down on the end table and jogged to the front door just in time to see Casey spinning tires out of the driveway in Derek's truck.

**11:47 A.M.**

Just outside of Toronto, Casey pulled Derek's truck into a gas station for a refuel. She got nervous when she saw a patrol car pull into the parking lot and two officers get out of their car. Did Derek call the law on her? Casey sighed with relief as the two police officers walked into the convenience store without so much of a glance her way. She swiped her emergencies-only credit card at the pump and began pumping the gas.

After pumping the gas, Casey jumped back in the truck and was about to drive off when one of the officers knocked on the passenger's window. Nervously, Casey rolled down the window.

"Yes?" She said, trying to sound innocent.

"Sorry to disturb you miss, but you left your gas cap open." He said.

"Thanks." Casey said, sighing with relief. She jumped out of the truck and began screwing the gas cap down, when she heard the second officer talking in hushed tones with the first one.

"The white van from that accident this morning belonged to a man off of Columbus Circle." He said.

"Have they contacted the family?" The first cop said.

Casey stood frozen with her hand on the gas cap, her ears trained on the conversation.

"They talked to the son."

"We'll let them handle this downtown. We've got better things to do."

"Shouldn't we check the white van out?" The second cop interjected.

"Chris, I'm going to tell you this. We've been partners for a long time now. I wouldn't lead you astray. Leave this one alone." He looked up and smiled politely at Casey, unaware that she'd been listening to the conversation.

Casey got back in the truck, her mind racing. Were they talking about her family? It was too much of a coincidence—the white van, contacting the family, the accident occurred this morning. Casey closed her eyes, holding back the tears. She was too late to save her family. But if these cops weren't going to follow up a lead, then she was.

**12:13 P.M.**

After looking for Columbus Circle on a map that Derek had shoved in the glove compartment, Casey felt confident about her destination. It took her fifteen minutes to drive there. Thankfully, Columbus Circle was a residential, suburban area and Casey was able to drive slowly, and look for a white van. For a road having only about twenty houses on it, locating the van shouldn't be too hard.

She spotted the van in the fourth driveway on the left. Not knowing exactly what to do, Casey pulled over across the street from the house and waited. She grabbed her cell phone and turned it on. She had twenty-seven missed calls—six from Sam's house phone, and twenty-one from Derek's cell phone.

Casey was about to dial, when the phone started ringing in her hands. It was Derek. Casey took a deep breath and answered—keeping her eyes on the house.

"Hello?" She said.

"Where the hell are you?!" Derek demanded into the phone.

"I'm here." Casey said. "At his house."

"Whose house, Casey?" Casey could hear the anger and the hurt in his voice.

"The guy who caused the accident." Casey said simply as if Derek should automatically know.

"How do you even know that Casey? I just got a phone call…"

"From Sgt. Ellis? I know." Casey said, interrupting him.

"Sam's on his way to take me to the hospital because _someone_ stole my truck this morning." Derek said angrily. "I have to go identify the dead bodies of our family."

"I'll meet you there." She said. "Right now, I'm on a stake-out."

"How do you know all this already?" He demanded. "You knew this morning when you stole my truck that our family was going to die. I thought maybe you just had a premonition—a bad dream that something was going to happen. But how do you know who caused the wreck and where he lives? What's going on, Casey that you're not telling me?"

Casey sighed. "I did tell you. I'm living the same day over. This day happened yesterday. As soon as I realized what was going on, I raced up here. Fate intervened, and I was able to find out where he lives."

"You expect me to believe this?" He spat.

"Yes."

Casey could hear him blowing into the phone, releasing an angry sigh.

"Will you meet me and Sam somewhere?" Derek asked.

"I can't leave this spot until I find out more about this guy."

"Casey, it might be dangerous. Ellis said he fled the scene. There's no telling what he'd do to protect himself."

Casey hung up the phone and turned it off. She was not in the mood to listen to Derek tell her what to do.

After watching the house for ten minutes and seeing no signs of life inside, Casey got out of the truck and jogged over to the white van. She squatted down beside it—partially to hide herself and partially to examine the side of the van. Long, deep scratches ran along the side of the economy-sized van. Embedded in the scratches was dark blue paint—the same color of her family's minivan. Casey had no doubts now that this was the guy.

Glancing at the mailbox, Casey read the name _J. Paratore. _

Casey stood up, with a new burst of courage, and marched to the front door. Suddenly, before Casey knocked on the door, she heard music start up. She recognized it as Mozart's haunting masterpiece, Requiem. Casey's blood ran cold. Not exactly having a game plan in mind, Casey knocked loudly on the door.

Suddenly, the music stopped. Casey waited a minute longer and knocked on the door again. The door opened and Casey was face to face with her family's killer. He was tall and muscular in his mid to late thirties and looked like he just jumped off a Harley.

"I'm taking a survey for school." Casey said off the top of her head. "I was wondering if you already are or plan on recycling?"

He grunted and looked down the road on both sides before grabbing her arm and jerking her into his house.

"I know who you are." He growled. Suddenly, Casey's world went black.

**1:56 P.M.**

When Casey awoke, she found herself on an old smelly, couch. She tried to lift her head, but it felt too heavy. Hearing her family's killer and now her abductor, having a loud conversation on the phone in the next room, Casey closed her eyes and pretended to still be passed out so she could listen.

"I don't know what she's doing here, boss!" He yelled.

Casey heard him pacing over the linoleum floor.

"She showed up, spun me some bullshit story about school and when I dragged her in here, she passed out cold."

Casey held her breath while he quietly listened to the caller's response.

"I'll get rid of her just like I did the rest." He vowed.

Casey's eyes involuntarily shot open. She scanned the room without moving to look for a weapon. Her gaze landed on a thick family Bible that lay on the coffee table.

As soon as she heard Paratore in the doorway to the living room, Casey sprang up and grabbed the leather-bound Bible—the thing had to weigh a ton. She swung, using her whole body for force, and caught him in the temple with the Bible. Paratore was momentarily disoriented as his vision went blurry.

Casey dropped the Bible and ran to the front door and racing to Derek's truck. Luckily, the keys still hung in the ignition. She started up the truck and spun the tires leaving.

Paratore was hot on her trail, in the same white van that killed her family. Casey heard a loud popping sound and suddenly the back window of the truck busted out. Casey ducked down and jerked the steering wheel hard to the right, doing a 180 turn on the highway. Casey righted herself and the truck and kept driving; Paratore was scrambling to keep up. Watching in her rearview mirror, Casey saw Paratore spin out of control and into the middle of an intersection. His van was hit by a transfer truck.

A smile tugged at her lips. That's karma, for you.

**2:45 P.M.**

Casey waited at the front entrance of the hospital for Sam and Derek, drinking a fresh, hot cup of coffee.

Seeing them walk toward the entrance, Casey stood up.

"I've already been in there." Casey said. "I identified them so please, spare yourself."

"Did you go in there today-today or yesterday-today?" Derek said sarcastically.

"Today-today." Casey answered. "We have to talk."

"I don't want to talk to you." Derek said.

Casey dangled his truck keys in his face for leverage.

"Okay." He agreed grudgingly.

**3:17 P.M.**

Casey leaned back in the café chair. She glanced at Sam on her left and Derek on her right. She had just finished recounting everything she heard from the two cops this morning that led her to Paratore and everything that Paratore said on the phone.

"So, for argument's sake, let's say I believe you in the fact that you're living the same day over again." Derek said in a hushed tone. He didn't want anyone to overhear him and think that he'd completely lost his mind. "Why?"

"Why?" Casey repeated, thinking quickly. "Because, maybe I'm supposed to help bring justice to our family. If I hadn't have lived this day over I'd have never found out about Paratore."

"What about tomorrow?" Sam asked. Casey looked at him questioningly so he clarified, "What if you wake up tomorrow and it's today again?"

Derek threw Sam an annoying glance. It was pathetically obvious that he hadn't gotten over Casey and the fact that he bought into her crazy story was proof.

Casey looked puzzled. "I guess I could go to the police as early as possible. Maybe they could stop it from happening."

"What happens if you wake up and it's tomorrow?" Derek asked with a hint of sarcasm.

"Then I plan the best memorial for my family to honor their memory and make sure that son-of-a-bitch Paratore died in that crash." Casey said.

The teens were quiet as the waitress brought out their burgers.

"Thank you." Casey said to her as she set their plates down.

She nodded and turned to walk away, but when she did, she accidentally, knocked Casey's glass in the floor causing a big mess.

"I'm so sorry." She said, her face turning red. "I'll clean that up and bring you another drink."

"It's okay." Casey said. Derek was laughing.

"Wait." Sam said after the waitress left. "Didn't you say that Paratore called the person on the phone boss?"

"Yeah." Casey said after biting into her burger. She could hear the manager yelling at the waitress named Jennifer.

"So this is a hit job." Derek said.

"Why?" Casey thought out loud.

They sat there in silence, mulling over this information and eating their food.

"We need to look into Paratore." Derek said. "What's his first name?"

"It begins with J." Casey said. Derek gave her a look.

"What?" Casey said defensively. "That's all it said on the mailbox. It's not like we were formally introduced."

"Maybe we could swing by his place and get a first name. I seriously doubt he's going to be there any time soon." Sam suggested.

Casey shook her head. "If this was a hit job, the place would be crawling with his lackeys by now destroying evidence."

"Casey's right." Derek said, surprising everyone at the table, including himself, for actually agreeing with his step-sister for once.

"I guess if tomorrow is today again, I could get his name before I whack him in the head with a Bible." Casey said.

Derek snorted, "Talk about being slain in the Spirit."

Suddenly, Casey's eyes went wide, "A55632."

"Huh?" Sam said.

"Casey, English please. Not nerd-speak." Derek said. "I know it's your native language and all."

Casey shot a look of annoyance at Derek.

"That's the tag number on the van." Casey explained.

The guys looked at her incredulously.

"What? I sat outside his house a long time this morning and I have a knack for remembering numbers and stuff."

They blinked.

"Anyway, I could get my dad to run the plates."

"He works with _NYPD_." Derek said. "How's that going to help with a _Toronto_ plate?"

"He's still got some pull with the Toronto Police Department." Casey said, whipping out her cell phone and dialed her dad's cell. There was no answer, but Casey left a message on his voicemail.

"Hey Daddy. I need a favor. Can you run a Toronto plate for me? A55632. I need a name. It's very important."

Casey placed the phone in the middle of the table as they finished their meal.

"What makes you think he'll run that plate for you?" Derek said with a mouthful of French fries.

As soon as the words came out of Derek's mouth, her phone began vibrating and ringing to the tune of _Don't Cha._

Casey smiled triumphantly at him and answered her phone.

"Casey," Her dad said. "How did you get that plate number?"

"Well, I had a little fender bender today and that jerk drove off." Casey lied. Derek gave her two thumbs up. He'd taught her well.

"This doesn't have anything to do with what happened to your mother and George, does it?" He asked.

"You know about that?" She asked.

"Of course. The boys at TPD told me." He said. "You should've told me."

"I'm sorry, Daddy. I've been busy getting things in order." Casey said apologetically.

"It's okay, hon. I'm flying in as soon as possible." He said. Casey brightened up.

"Really?" Casey asked. "Like tomorrow or something?"

"Not tomorrow." Dennis said. "But very soon—I promise. Right now, I'm working on a tough case. Call your Aunt Fiona; she can help you."

"Of course." Casey said, wiping the tears away. Derek looked pissed. "Did you get a name from the tag?"

"His name is Joseph Paratore. Stay away from him at all costs, Casey." Dennis MacDonald said. "He is very bad news."

Casey said goodbye to her dad and hung up the phone.

"Is he being a douche again?" Derek asked.

"Derek, lay off my dad. He got us the name." Casey said.

Jennifer, the waitress, brought Casey a new drink and set it on the table and began sweeping up her mess.

"So tell me, Casey, when is he coming to lend his daughter moral support? Before the funeral? Just after? Or when you finally have a mental breakdown and are hospitalized?" Derek said, showing his obvious disdain for Casey's dad. Since the MacDonald's moved into the Venturi household, Dennis MacDonald has done nothing but make empty promises to his daughters.

"Lay off, man." Sam said, sliding his chair closer to Casey and putting a protective arm around her.

"Shut up, Sam." Derek said. "If you didn't have your head shoved so far up Casey's ass you might see that her father is a douche bag."

"Derek!" Casey yelled.

"If you didn't have your head shoved up your own ass, you might show a little compassion for your sister!" Sam said.

"Step-sister!" Derek automatically corrected.

Sam stood up and Derek rose to his challenge. The two of them stood, glaring at each other.

"Stop it!" Casey said, standing between them. "Let's not lose focus here."

Sam broke eye contact first. "Casey's right." He said, sitting down. Casey turned to Derek with pleading eyes. He too, reluctantly sat down.

"My dad ran the plate. It belongs to Joseph Paratore." Casey said. The waitress came and took their empty plates and turned the check over on the table. "We have to find out as much as we can about him."

**5:30 P.M.**

Casey walked next door to the Davis's house carrying the small box covered in the brightly colored paper. She knocked on the door and Mrs. Davis answered.

"Is Emily here?" Casey asked.

"She's out with Sheldon for dinner." Mrs. Davis said apologetically.

"Could you give her this?" Casey held out the box that contained her grandmother's necklace. She was slightly relieved that Emily wasn't there. She didn't feel like explaining the story again.

"Okay." She said. "And Casey, I just heard about what happened and I want you to know that Greg and I are here for you."

"Thank you." Casey said.

Derek was waiting on the couch when Casey got back.

"How are we going to find out more about Paratore?" He asked.

Casey thought for a minute and said, "My dad knew who he was immediately. Maybe he worked a case involving him when he lived in Toronto."

Derek rolled his eyes, "I'd rather not involve your dad in this."

"He might be able to help us." Casey said. She walked into the kitchen and opened the cabinets, looking for something to eat. Derek followed her into the kitchen. Casey opened a jar containing spaghetti noodles while Derek grabbed a pot and filled it with water. Casey dumped the noodles in the pot and Derek put it on the stove. They watched the pot, waiting on the water to boil.

"Maybe we can ride up to New York in the morning." Derek said. Casey smiled brightly.

"What if tomorrow is today again?" Casey asked, unsurely.

"Then I have a spare key to my truck over my bedroom doorframe." He answered.

They smiled at each other, finally able to come to an understanding. They continued their teamwork when the spaghetti was cooked. Derek drained the noodles; Casey found a jar of sauce.

As soon as they sat down for dinner the phone began ringing. Derek started to get up but Casey stopped him. She got up and unplugged the phone.

Derek looked at her quizzically, "That could've been important."

"Your Aunt Marge calls from North Dakota, followed by George's college buddy, two of my cousins that I haven't seen since five Christmases ago, and several other obscure family members." She said, sitting back down.

"I have an Aunt Marge?" Derek asked.

"Yeah. By the way, she says to tell her "peachie pie" that he has a cozy little spot in her home anytime." Casey smirked.

Derek made a sour face.

"Peachie pie?" He shuddered. "No thanks."

**9:58 P.M.**

Casey stood up from her spot on the living room floor and stretched.

"I'm going to bed." She said.

"Wait, one more game." Derek said, shuffling the deck of cards.

"Derek, just face it. I am the Go Fish queen." She said, pulling her hair back into a pony tail.

Derek placed the deck of cards on the coffee table.

"Tomorrow, it's on—double or nothing." He said.

"If there is a tomorrow." Casey said.

"There will be." Derek said, sure of himself.

"I hope you're right. I don't know if I can do this again."

They walked upstairs together. "Goodnight, Derek."

"'Night Case." He said, disappearing into his room.

Casey went into her own room, changed her mind, and knocked on Derek's door.

He opened the door, "What is it?"

"I've been thinking. If I sleep in here, I'll know immediately if I wake up to the same day or not."

The reality was Casey didn't want to sleep alone. She looked around his messy room, about to change her mind, when Derek agreed.

"I'll sleep in the floor." He said.

Casey nodded. She didn't even know there was a floor there.

Derek pulled out an air mattress from under his bed.

"Sam sleeps on it when he comes over." Derek explained. Casey nodded and threw him a pillow. She climbed into Derek's bed wishing she had chosen the air mattress. Surprisingly, his covers smelled clean like fabric softener. Casey was asleep almost as soon as she closed her eyes. Listening to Casey's rhythmic breathing, Derek was also asleep in a matter of seconds.


	3. Day Three

**Day Break**

**by Nunda**

**/A.N./ Thanks for the reviews. Please keep 'em coming and let me know your input!**

**Day Three**

**8:31 A.M.  
**Relief washed over Casey as she woke to find herself in her own bedroom. The house stood silent as she realized she'd been given another chance. She jumped up and could feel her heart slamming in her chest as she looked for her cell phone on her desk. She found it under a stack of papers, the same place she'd left it three nights ago when she pulled a late night study-fest.

Frantically, she speed-dialed her mom's cell as she quickly threw on some clothes. Dashing across the hall, and trying not to panic when it went straight to voicemail, Casey ran her hand along the top of Derek's bedroom door until she felt the cool metal of his spare key. Snatching it up, she ran down the stairs, redialing her mother's number as she went.

Casey took extra care to not trip over Lizzie's skate left haphazardly on the bottom step. She found it very peculiar that even though she kept waking up to the same day all over again, that she still felt the pains from the day before. Her ankle was a testament to that and she didn't need anything else slowing her down.

"Mom," Casey said when the voicemail picked up again. "It is very important that you and George get off the road as soon as possible. Please." Casey's voice cracked. "I can't tell you why but someone is going to try and run you off the road. Just pull over and stay put somewhere until I can get to you and explain."

Slamming the door behind her, Casey ran out of the house and jogged towards Sam's house, taking a shortcut through a few backyards.

She kept dialing as she ran and every time Casey heard her mom's voice on the voicemail, it was like a stab through the heart.

"Why does she have her cell phone off?" Casey yelled in frustration as she zipped through one yard. A woman weeding through her flower bed at the time Casey zipped through shook her head.

"Kids these days." The woman tsked. "They have no respect."

Out of breath, Casey finally reached Derek's truck. It only took a few seconds to get in and start the truck up. Casey spun out of the driveway, only this time without a bewildered Sam in the rear view.

**9:13 A.M.  
**The sun bore down on the early morning traffic and Casey felt helpless. Trapped in the gridlock, Casey fought back tears of frustration. She felt that she was inching down the highway. Somewhere further along this very highway, her family was riding, probably singing annoying road songs to the tops of their lungs, completely oblivious of their doomed fate.

Gripping the steering wheel, Casey maneuvered the truck on to the shoulder and put on her emergency flashers. Seeing as how this was the third time Casey woke up to this day, she no longer feared consequence. The only thing she feared was her family dying and she woke up to tomorrow.

Ignoring the evil glares and middle finger salutes she received, Casey kept driving down the shoulder and passed the bumper-to-bumper traffic. She turned on the radio as she scanned through the traffic—looking for a white van or dark blue mini-van.

"…_win a chance of a lifetime."_ The DJ on the radio was announcing. _"Caller seven will win tickets to see Linkin Park in concert and snag backstage passes."_

Casey pressed the gas pedal harder. If her parents left at eight o'clock like they'd planned, they'd be halfway to Toronto already.

"_Hi, this is The Rock 107, what's your name?"_

"_Sandra!" _The excited caller said.

"_Sandra, you're caller seven!" _Casey listened to the DJ announce excitedly.

"_Really? Omigod, I love Linkin Park!" _Sandra screamed and Casey wondered if it was Derek's ex Sandra. It would be really funny if it was—the once mature and concerned citizen going all fangirl over Linkin Park.

"_Who's your number one station for rock music?" _The DJ said. Casey secretly wished she'd say the wrong station, just to hear the DJ's reaction.

"_The Rock 107 is!" _Sandra yelled.

Hastily, Casey switched stations, leaving it on a new Beyonce song when she spotted a dark blue mini-van stuck in traffic about a quarter of a mile ahead of her. She pressed forward, flashing her headlights as well—anything to get their attention.

It wasn't until she got beside them that she noticed it wasn't her family's van. The driver was looking at Casey like she'd lost her mind.

"_It's 9:22 here on 91 Beat, here's your latest traffic update from Charles Towns."_

"_There's a huge traffic delay for those traveling to Toronto today. There was an accident involving a dark blue mini-van at the 221 Exit. Try to avoid it if possible this morning."_

Casey turned the radio off. How was she ever supposed to save her family? Glancing up, Casey noticed she was nearly sixty exits away from where her parents crashed. Merging slowly back into traffic, Casey decided to exit. She suddenly felt sick to her stomach.

She drove the back roads to Columbus Circle, not really knowing what she was going to do when she got there.

**11:18 A.M.  
**Parked across the street from Paratore's house once again, Casey tried to get together a game plan. She searched through Derek's truck looking for anything she could use as a weapon. Sliding her hands under the seat, she came across a hockey stick. Gripping it in her hands, Casey walked confidently to the front door.

After knocking on the door, Casey took her stance. As soon as the door popped open, Casey swung at his head. Once again, she hit him in the temple.

"What the hell?" He said, gripping the sides of his head, he was momentarily blinded by the force to his temple.

Casey took the opportunity to nail him right between the legs with the hockey stick. He fell to his knees.

"Who do you work for?" Casey asked him.

Paratore let out a deep, throaty laugh, "You think it's that easy, kid?" He asked. "You come in here taking cheap shots thinking you can get some information. What a laugh."

"Like you took a cheap shot at my family? They didn't have much of a chance to defend themselves." She said, hitting him in the back of the neck.

He grabbed the stick and threw it across the room. Casey stumbled backwards, unsure of her next move.

"I know who you are." Paratore said, regaining his vision. "The only question now is what the hell are you doing here?"

"I want answers." Casey said, backing up, and bumping into a buffet table in the hallway. Both Casey and Paratore locked eyes on the large brass vase set in the middle.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." He said, both of them making a dive for the heavy object. Younger and smaller, Casey grabbed it first and immediately swung it across his face. Instead of momentary blindness, Paratore was knocked out cold. Casey slammed the vase into the back of his head; just to make sure he didn't get up for a long time.

Cautiously, Casey tiptoed through his house. There was no telling what kind of goon might be hanging out here—although in her opinion Paratore looked like the loner type. But he worked for someone and Casey was determined to find out whom.

**11:48 A.M.  
**Casey, thumbing through some files, froze when the phone rang, piercing the silence. She quickly darted to pick up the receiver.

"Good work, Paratore. I'm impressed." The caller said.

Casey listened, hoping he would continue.

"Joe?" Softly, Casey dropped the phone back into the cradle. She knew that she had a matter of minutes to get out of there. With her senses heightened by fear, Casey grabbed a few files that she hadn't gone through, and ran out the front door, kicking Paratore on her way just to add insult to injury.

Speeding off, Casey glanced at the folders strewn across the passenger's seat. Apparently, her family was not the only hit Paratore was currently working on. The folders weren't labeled so it made it more difficult to skim through.

Casey drove to her father's condo in Toronto—the one that he kept when he moved to New York, promising the girls that he'd fly out every month to stay in so the girls could come visit him.

Not having a garage opener, Casey parked in the alley beside the condo. She scooped up the folders and let herself in after fishing for the key hidden in a flower pot.

The air in the condo was stale as her father probably hadn't been here since the day he moved to New York. Casey turned on the air, but shut all the curtains and made sure the doors were locked. Only then, was she able to get comfortable, spreading the folders out in the floor around her.

After poring over every inch of half of the folders, Casey stood up, to take a small break. She looked at the photos of her and Lizzie lining the walls—Dennis _was_ once a proud father.

Upstairs, Casey found herself in her old room—the one before the divorce. Her stuff was long gone, of course—only the bed remained. She opened the closet door and was surprised to see it piled high with boxes—_file boxes._

Excitedly, Casey ran downstairs and scooped up the remaining folders, and took them back up to her room. Laying on her stomach on her old bed Casey thumbed through the folders. Stuck between two documents was a folded piece of yellow paper that had her family's address on it. No wonder Paratore'd recognized her—he had been staking them out.

Scribbled underneath their address was another address—one that Casey didn't recognize but was right in Toronto. It was the only information on her family in all the folders.

Casey glanced at the boxes in her closet. She wanted to go through them and see if there was anything about Paratore in them but she had a new lead now. Casey jogged downstairs to her dad's office, clutching the yellow paper in her hands. He had a huge road atlas on his desk in there if he didn't take it to New York with him.

Of course, just as Casey had suspected, the atlas laid right where her dad left it when he left Toronto for good. She found the road, and scribbled a crude map on the yellow paper and left the house.

**1:02 P.M.  
**The festival had parts of downtown Toronto closed off, including the streets, forcing Casey to take unfamiliar detours.

Pulling over only once, to take a breather and glance back at her map drawing, Casey was back on the road to her unknown destination.

The address—328 Rochester Lane—ended at a condemned and boarded up house.

Leaving the truck idling, Casey jumped out and jogged up to the house. She peered into the dusty windows—seeing nothing but an empty house that seemed to be falling apart.

Casey walked back to the truck, puzzled as to what this house had to do with Paratore or her family.

Driving back to the condo, Casey pulled out her cell phone and dialed her dad's apartment in New York.

"Daddy?" Casey asked when he picked up.

"What is it, baby?" He said.

"I need to know about Joseph Paratore." She said. She hadn't wanted to ask him for help, but felt she had no choice.

"How do you know about him?" He asked.

Casey held back a sob. "He ran Mom and George off the road today. They're all dead."

"Are you sure it was him, Case?" Dennis asked.

"Yes." Casey said, letting herself back into the condo. She could picture her dad now, scratching his head and pacing back and forth.

"Casey, Paratore is bad news. Stay away from him—he's extremely dangerous."

Casey grinned wryly at the image of this "dangerous" man falling to his knees in pain.

"I need to know everything." Casey said. "In order to stop this."

"Stop what?" Dennis asked.

"Long story." Casey replied. "Please be a father and let me know what I'm up against."

"Casey, call your Aunt Fiona—stay with her until I can get a break from work. As soon as I can I will pick you up and you can come live with me." Dennis said.

"I don't need a place to stay, Dad." Casey said. "I need to know about the man who killed my family."

"I'm so sorry about that, Casey." Dennis said. His career was littered with the times that he had to talk to grieving family members of one of his victims and yet he couldn't come up with any better words to tell his daughter.

"It's not your fault, Dad." Casey replied. She went straight to her old room and started pulling out the boxes.

"I don't know much about him, Casey. I left before I got too close. But there was a case…" Dennis trailed.

Casey stopped leafing through her dad's old file boxes and listened intensely.

"I was working on a case involving _Ceni Neri _a gang of Mafia-throwbacks living in Toronto. They've infiltrated everything and everyone. The police, lawyers, even school teachers—they have the whole city practically under their thumb." Dennis continued.

Casey's jaw hit the floor—_how was she ever to deal with this? This was way bigger than she thought._

"A good friend of mine in the force, Michael Carlson, gave me the heads up to leave town…so I did. If I hadn't left town and dropped the case, Paratore would have ran me off the road."

Casey let out a sob. "That's why you haven't been back to see me and Lizzie?"

"Casey, I don't know why Paratore targeted your family unless it was to get to me somehow. Go downtown and talk to Carlson and Carlson only. I will be in town as soon as I can."

Casey hung up her cell, grabbed the files she stole from Paratore's house and left for the Toronto Police Department.

**2:15 P.M.  
**Casey waited nervously outside of Detective Michael Carlson's office. She was holding the folders in her hands, shifting through them, looking for anything she might've overlooked.

"Casey MacDonald?" Detective Carlson said, opening his door. He was slightly older than her dad with faded red hair that was turning gray. "I haven't seen you since you were knee high to a grasshopper."

Casey forced a tight-lipped smile—she couldn't ever remember meeting him before.

"Come inside and have a seat." He said, opening his office door wider, glancing nervously down the hallway. Shutting the door behind him, Carlson sat at his desk, across from Casey.

"My father told me to come and see you." Casey said, still clutching the folders.

"Yes, your father and I go way back. I highly respect the man." He said, propping his elbows on the desk. "I'm so sorry about your loss."

Casey nodded, "Thanks."

She tried to judge how much she should tell Carlson. She didn't know him well enough to tell him everything about how her day was repeating—he wouldn't understand.

"What can I help you with?" He smiled broadly.

"Joseph Paratore." Casey said, noticing that when she did, Carlson's smile dropped instantly.

"How did you get his name?"

"I asked my dad to run the plates of the van that witnesses spotted fleeing the scene of my family's crash this morning. I know you've heard all about it already." Casey said.

Carlson's eyes narrowed in thought, "The witnesses we interviewed didn't get a tag number. Paratore's not that sloppy."

Casey's eyes widened. She'd forgotten that she'd gotten her dad to run the plate numbers yesterday. Well, _her _yesterday, anyway.

"I, uh…" Casey stammered.

"It's okay." Carlson told her. "So, you've got an informant?"

Casey nodded, relieved. She handed the files to Carlson.

"What's this?" He asked, opening the folders.

"I got them from Paratore this morning." Casey said. "There's also my family's address in there with an address to an old house that has something to do with Paratore."

He looked up at her in shock.

"You've got to get out of here. Out of town." He warned. "Go to New York with your dad. You just stepped in a bee's nest, kid."

He ushered her out in to the hallway.

"I'm sorry about your family, Miss MacDonald. We're doing everything we can to find the person responsible." He said loudly so the other officers could hear. Then quietly, he whispered, "Go to New York. I'll call your dad in the morning."

**2:35 P.M.  
**Casey walked out of the police department even more confused than when she first went in. If Paratore and the Ceni Neri are so bad, why can't the police just arrest them? Why doesn't the justice system weed out the dirty cops that protect these guys?

Behind the wheel of the truck once again, Casey screamed out in anger to vent her frustrations. She jerked the wheel into the direction of the house at 328 Rochester Lane—she was going in there, condemnation or not.

Heavy chains across the front door made Casey circle around to the back of the house. With a heavy push, the back door creaked and popped open. Dust swirled around, causing Casey to sneeze.

The inside of the house looked like the set of a horror flick. Casey shuddered as she walked through the gutted-out kitchen area and into the living room part of the house. Gaping holes in the ceiling allowed Casey to view the upstairs area.

In the hallway, a door to the basement creaked back and forth in the sudden breeze that filtered through the busted out windows. Glancing down the dark stairwell uncertainly, Casey bravely ignored her fear of basements and trekked down the stairs.

It was like a different world in the basement. Although the upstairs looked as if it hadn't been lived in for centuries, the basement looked fairly lived in. Through the dim light of one window, Casey saw a small couch shoved against the left wall. The centerpiece was an old TV set and beside it sat a bookshelf full of video tapes.

Noticing a tape in the VCR, Casey pressed play and turned on the television. The tape came into focus and Casey saw George and Nora leaving their house with Marti, Lizzie, and Edwin. It wasn't from the morning of the accident—George and Nora were dressed for work while the younger kids carried backpacks instead of overnight bags.

Casey watched with tears in her eyes as Marti got in the minivan with Nora and Edwin and Lizzie climbed into the Camry. She paused the videotape and traced her mother's features on the screen. The last time she'd seen her mom was at the morgue—Casey felt her stomach lurching.

Feeling sick, Casey fast-forwarded until she saw herself and Derek emerging from the house. Suddenly, she remembered the day—it was Friday—the day before the accident.

Derek, being his usual annoying self, tugged on her ponytail that day, right before she got into his truck, causing her hair to be lopsided.

"Derek!" Casey mouthed along with herself on the tape, even though there was no sound. "It took twenty minutes to get my hair the way I like it."

She ended up pulling her hair out of the pony tail when she sat in the passenger's seat, and ran her fingers through it—shaking her slightly wavy hair over her shoulders.

"What?" She had said when she had noticed Derek staring at her.

"Nothing." He had said, starting the truck up.

Everything about that day had seemed so normal and yet so long ago.

The tape stopped as soon as she and Derek drove away but Casey couldn't help noticing that the tape was completely full.

With shaky hands, Casey turned off the television—so Paratore had watched her family but why were the tapes here of all places? She searched through everything for anymore clues but came up empty handed.

Glancing over the room one more time, Casey decided to leave.

Needing time to think and to clear her mind before she went home to face Derek, Casey drove downtown to the Family Festival. Casey had always enjoyed going there as a child. The streets were closed off downtown, and vendors set up in the streets selling various items and foods. The center of town, the lawn across from the courthouse, was used for a music showcase of local family-friendly artists.

Casey walked toward the stage and found a seat in the middle watching as two young girls played a duet on violins.

In moments, Casey was lost in the music with her thoughts swirling around in her head. She wanted so badly for this day to be over with and for her family to be alive.

**6:45 P.M.  
**Keeping her eyes on the road, Casey grabbed her cell phone as it rang next to her—she'd just turned it on a few minutes earlier.

"Hello?" She said.

"Casey, it's Sam." He said. "Listen, I have something to tell you…"

"Sam, I know about my family." Casey interrupted him, sparing him the awkwardness of that conversation.

"I just left Derek at your house." Sam said.

"You left him alone?" Casey asked, incredulously.

"Yeah, Mom wanted me home for dinner." He said lamely.

Casey rolled her eyes. She wondered how she even fell in love with such a mama's boy in the first place.

"I'll be there in five minutes." Casey said and hung up the phone, tossing it in the seat next to her.

"Where the hell have you been all day?" Derek shouted as Casey entered the front door.

She slipped her shoes off by the door and took off her top shirt—leaving her in just a tank top.

"I'm not in the mood right now, Derek."

She started for the stairs, but he grabbed her arm, his nails slightly digging into her bare skin, and whirled her around.

"You're not in the _fucking_ mood?" His grip on her arm tightened. "Do you have any idea what I have been through today?"

Angry tears pierced his eyes, something that Casey, or anyone for that matter, had never seen.

"Derek…" Casey said. "I'm so sorry."

"They're dead, Casey." He said, his grip loosening.

"I know." She said, her voice cracking. "I should have been here."

He let go of her arm and unsure of what to do next, shoved his hands into his pockets.

"How did you know already?" He said, cocking his head to one side.

"Sam called me." She said. It was only a partial lie. Sam did call her, she just didn't feel like getting into the whole freakish day-trap nightmare.

"He just left. I've been trying to call you all day long." He said accusingly. His eyes were dry now, but still held the same sadness that broke Casey's heart.

"I know." She said, quietly. She had over twenty missed calls from him again on her phone.

They stood in the foyer for a minute in silence.

"Here's your key back." Casey held it out to him.

He narrowed his eyes at her, "How the hell did you find that anyway?"

He took the key from her and put it in his pocket.

"Lucky guess." Casey said even though it was Derek who ironically told her the day before. Of course, _her_ yesterday didn't exist to him. _His_ yesterday was partially captured on that video tape in the condemned house.

"You're really starting to freak me out." Derek said.

"Is that spaghetti I smell?" Casey asked, changing the subject abruptly, and walked through the dining room to the kitchen. Her stomach growled in hunger and Casey just realized that she hadn't eaten all day long.

"There better not be any scratches on it." He said, following behind her.

"Don't worry _peachie pie_, I took care of your baby." Casey said, pulling two plates down from the cabinet. Derek's cheeks turned red.

They sat down across from each other at the dinner table.

"You're not going to ask me why I stole your truck?" Casey asked, forked poised in mid-twist.

"That really doesn't matter right now." Derek said, shoving a forkful of spaghetti in his mouth.

After dinner, Casey cleared their dishes and put them in the dishwasher. Derek went to his room and she could hear him playing his guitar with the amp up loud. Even though D-Rock only had their one performance at the school talent show, Derek had continued to play the guitar and actually became quite good.

Casey went up and knocked on his bedroom door and let herself in.

"Care for an audience?" She asked sitting on his bed. He was seated across from her in his computer chair. He shrugged and adjusted the tuning pegs.

"You know, this house is almost paid off?" Derek asked as he strummed "Nothing Else Matters" by Metallica.

"Really?" Casey asked as if she hadn't had this conversation with him before. "Maybe we could keep living here then. Your mom could move in and help us out with the bills. It'd be nice to graduate with my friends."

Derek hid a smile. "You just read my mind." He said. "But you wouldn't want to move in with your dad in New York?"

Casey shook her head, "You can't get rid of me that easily."

"Dammit." Derek said sarcastically. "I was hoping."

Casey playfully swatted his arm.

"Speaking of my mom," Derek said "She's coming in the morning to help out with the funerals. So is Fiona."

Casey nodded even though she wasn't going to hold her breath on tomorrow.

"Play my song." Casey said, stretching out on Derek's bed.

"Which one?" He asked.

Casey sighed, closing her eyes, and said, "The one in that movie."

Derek nodded. He knew which one she was talking about. It was the first song he'd learned to play on guitar—The White Stripe's "We're Going To Be Friends". The soft melody of the song lulled Casey into sleep.

Derek put his guitar down and pulled the covers over Casey's sleeping form. He turned off the light and pulled the air mattress out from under the bed, slipping under the covers.

"Goodnight, Case." He whispered, rolling over on his side.

**Review? Also, I don't know Italian so I translated the gang name Ceni Neri online, meaning Black Dogs. If that's not correct, please let me know.**


	4. Day Four

**Day Break**

**by Nunda**

**A.N. Thanks to sydmoonlight for correcting my Italian. Thus, Ceni Neri are Cani Neri. Sorry for the long delay. Hopefully, the next few chapters will come along more smoothly. **

**Day Four**

**8:31 A.M.**

Casey awoke alone in her room and not wanting to waste time. She had to figure out who Paratore was and why he targeted her family—and what her dad knows that he's not telling her. Somehow, Casey felt her dad could shed more light on this guy. The best way to do that was to go straight to the source—New York City.

Casey swung her feet over the bed and dialed the phone as she got dressed.

"Sam?" Casey said when he answered the phone.

"Casey? What's wrong?" Sam asked.

"Listen, I need you to tell Derek there's a family emergency. He needs to come home." Casey said.

Casey heard muffled voices then Derek said, "What kind of emergency? You can't handle this by yourself?"

Casey thought about the day before and how Derek handled it by himself. In a way, she was doing it for him but at the same time she was doing it for herself. She didn't want to see him with that scared little boy look on his face, no more than she wanted to see her mother's lifeless one.

Instead, she'd decided to take Derek with her on her escapade today.

"Derek," Casey said. "Someone wants to hurt our family."

That was all it took—the line went dead. Casey continued to get dressed and glanced in the mirror to run her fingers through her hair. She logged on to the computer and looked up travel agencies. Taking out her emergencies-only credit card again, Casey punched in her sixteen digits and bought two tickets to New York. Hastily, she printed out a confirmation page.

She quickly ran from her room to Derek's packing a change of clothes in each of their bags just in case they needed it.

Hearing the roar of Derek's truck in the driveway, Casey ran to meet him downstairs. Just as he came through the front door, Casey tripped over Lizzie's skate.

Derek rushed to help her up.

"Go ahead and laugh and call me Klutzilla." Casey said angrily, picking herself up off of the floor. She looked up to see Derek suppressing laughter.

"What's this about someone hurting our family?" Derek said, getting down to business. "Because if this is your idea of a prank…"

Casey punched Derek's arm. "Does this look like a prank?"

She handed him the confirmation page.

"New York?" Derek asked, puzzled. "I thought you meant _this_ family."

"My dad's going to help us." Casey said, taking the paper out of his hands. Noticing the look of defiance on his face, she added, "I know he can be a douche but we'll barely even see him while we're there. Think of it as a short vacation."

Derek seemed to be in deep thought, rubbing his chin with his thumb.

"You're not making any sense." Derek said.

Casey grabbed his arms. She hated this part. Trying to convince him over and over again was very tiring. "Listen Derek, you're going to have to trust me. There's a man…Joseph Paratore. My dad worked a case involving him before he moved to New York. And now, Joseph wants to hurt our family. I need to get my dad to tell us why."

"Your dad is responsible for some asshole wanting to hurt my family?" Derek asked, shaking Casey's hands off of his arms.

"No, not _responsible_." Casey amended. "But he may be involved somehow."

Derek clenched his fists and Casey realized that might not have been the best thing to say.

"How do you know about this guy? Did he try to hurt you?" Derek said, his eyes piercing into hers.

"I met him." Casey said, grabbing Derek's arm. "I will explain everything on the road. We have a flight to catch."

Derek looked around the house, as if searching for clues. He shook his head, and turned to go back out the house.

Casey climbed into the driver's seat, earning a glare from Derek.

"Something wrong with the passenger door?" He asked. "Scoot your ass over."

She looked up at him, blushing slightly. She'd spent enough time in this truck over the past two days that it felt normal to get behind the steering wheel. Grateful to not have to deal with driving, Casey slid over. She fumbled with the radio as Derek pulled out of the driveway.

**9:15 A.M.**

"_Omigod! I love Linkin Park!" _Casey heard fangirl Sandra exclaim on the radio.

"_Who's your number one station for rock music?" _

Casey pushed the scan button before Sandra had a chance to reply.

"Hey—I like that station." Derek glowered, glancing sideways at Casey.

"91 Beat is about to play the new Beyonce song." Casey replied.

Derek looked at her in disbelief. "Beyonce, Casey? God."

He pushed the scan button, leaving it on a station playing Sublime's "Santeria".

"Now this is music." Derek said.

"_And that was Santeria." _The DJ said after the song ended. "_And now for your latest traffic report with Bobby Ortello." _

Casey pushed the scan button again.

"What the hell, Casey? I may have wanted to hear a traffic report." Derek said angrily.

"No." Casey looked down at her watch. "The airport's not far from here, anyway."

Casey pointed to a sign indicated the distance to the nearest airport.

"You're acting weirder than usual today." He said, cutting his eyes to her briefly.

"If you only knew." She sighed, looking out the window as Derek pulled into the parking lot for the airport.

**10:23 A.M.**

"A one way ticket?" Derek asked incredulously. "You blew your emergency cash on one-way tickets?"

They had already went through customs and were now sitting in the hard plastic chairs, waiting to board their plane.

"That really doesn't matter right now." Casey said, nervously flipping her passport open and closed.

"You couldn't even spring for first class?" Derek continued to complain. "And could you stop doing that?"

He put his hand over hers, instantly stopping her nervous fidgeting with her passport. Realizing that his hand was touching hers, he jerked back quickly. Casey rolled her eyes.

"You're so immature sometimes." She said.

"And you're annoying." He replied.

"Ladies and gentlemen, first class may begin boarding Flight 255 London to New York." A voice came over the P.A.

Casey immediately stood up, anxious to board.

"See, we could be boarding by now." Derek said, pouting.

"You are such a--"

"Economy class for Flight 255 may now board."

"Great!" Derek jumped up and left Casey, still in mid-sentence, and presented his boarding pass to the flight attendant.

"Have a good flight." She smiled broadly at him.

Casey huffed and hurried to get behind Derek.

"I'll take the window seat." Derek declared once they found their seats. Casey obliged and sat next to him. She preferred the aisle seat, anyway, when flying with Derek Venturi. She pictured trying to climb over him to get to the restroom and shuddered.

"Scared of flying?" Derek leaned over and whispered to her.

"No." She answered curtly. "Not at all."

**12:45 P.M.**

No longer able to hold her bladder, Casey took off her headset that she'd been listening to an episode of _Grey's Anatomy_ in and got up to find the bathrooms.

"Hey, while you're up, get me some more Dots." Derek said, shaking his nearly empty candy box. Casey glared at him.

"What?" He asked innocently. "They're my favorites."

She turned around shaking her head. Derek could get his own damn Dots. She had to _go_.

Unbelievably, Casey found all of the stalls were in use. She stood for a minute before having to cross her legs. Finally, she knocked on one of the doors.

"Occupied!" The voice called out.

Casey rolled her eyes and grabbed the arm of the next flight attendant that passed by.

"Are there any other bathrooms?" She demanded, now regretting the five boxes of apple juice she'd downed earlier.

The attendant looked at the bathrooms, then led Casey through a pair of curtains.

"I'm really not supposed to be doing this." She said quietly as Casey followed her through the attendants' station.

"I won't tell anyone." Casey said gratefully.

"The bathrooms for first class are straight down the aisle on the left." The flight attendant said, opening a second pair of curtains for Casey to pass through.

Keeping her head down, Casey walked quickly down the aisle. First class was so much bigger than Economy. Casey decided if she had to do this again, she'd take Derek's advice.

"Paratore, I need you to hold the fort down, I'm halfway to New York."

Casey's blood ran cold at the sound of the familiar voice—it was the same voice from call she answered at Paratore's house. From the corner of her eye, she saw a man—possibly in his sixties—facing the window and talking into an airplane phone. Casey dared not to look up as he might recognize her just as Paratore did.

Instead, she ran into one of the bathrooms and quietly shut the door behind her. With her heart slamming into her chest, Casey tried to come up with a game plan.

She splashed a little cool water on her forehead, her bladder completely forgotten. Opening the bathroom door a crack, Casey could see the man still talking on the phone. His silver hair was slicked back to reveal leathery skin. He was drinking dark liquor, Casey assumed it was scotch. His wrist was adorned with an expensive watch.

Casey shut the door again and this time worried about how to get out without him seeing her. She wasn't going to risk his recognizing her. Untying her hoodie from around her waist, Casey put it on and pulled the hood up over her head, tucking her loose hair into the hood as well.

Taking a deep breath, Casey found enough courage to open the door. Once again, Casey kept her eyes downcast as she passed by this man.

"I'm going to pay MacDonald a personal visit now." He said coldly into the phone.

At this, Casey began running, nearly tripping over someone's hastily discarded carry-on. Once she got safely to her seat, Casey allowed herself to breathe.

"What happened to you?" Derek asked, pulling his headset off. "And where's my Dots?"

"There's some things I need to tell you." Casey said.

**1:30 P.M.**

"So let me get this straight," Derek said, opening a new box of Dots. "You're really serious about this time loop thing?"

"Deadly serious." Casey replied.

Derek was digging furiously through his box of candy—tossing the green ones into the air sickness bag.

"Are you okay?" Casey asked him.

"What?" He asked, mid-toss. "I love Dots but come on, the green ones taste like puke."

Casey rolled her eyes, "I wasn't talking about the candy."

"Have you read _Death in the Air _by Agatha Christie?" He asked, seemingly out of the blue.

Agape with disbelief, Casey stared at him.

"Should I be offended by your obvious disbelief to my reading capabilities?" He asked. "Anyway, so a passenger ends up dead on a plane. Everyone at first thinks it was from a wasp that was seen aboard the plane but then the detective guy begins to think it was a poison-tipped dart."

"Detective guy?" Casey snorted. "You mean Hercule Poirot?"

"Whatever, book snob, you're missing the point." Derek said.

"Derek, are you actually suggesting I smuggle a blow dart on this plane next time?" Casey shrieked.

Derek clamped a hand down on Casey's mouth.

"Keep it down." He whispered harshly. "Have you completely forgotten about the U.S. air marshals?"

"Is everything okay here?" One of the flight attendants said, appearing beside Casey. Casey was busy profusely wiping her mouth where Derek's clammy hand had been.

"Fantastic." Derek responded. The flight attendant looked expectantly at Casey. Derek nudged her in the side.

"We're fine, thanks." She said quickly. Then when the attendant sashayed away, Casey whispered quietly to Derek, "Where does one acquire said blow dart?"

"You grossly underestimate me, sis." Derek said.

"Don't call me that." Casey interjected. At Derek's questioning look she replied, "I don't want someone to think we're actually blood-related."

"And why is that?" He asked, staring at her intently. She held his gaze, determined not to let him win their impromptu staring contest.

"Beef or chicken?"

Grateful for the interruption, Casey turned to the flight attendant taking lunch orders.

"I'll have the chicken, thank you." Casey responded.

"Beef." Derek replied, finally cutting his eyes away from Casey.

The attendant wrote down their orders and continued to the next passengers.

"So, how do I 'grossly underestimate' you?" Casey said once she was out of earshot.

Derek took a sip of his water before responding, "Sam's father has a blow dart gun. It's kept in a safe but it shouldn't be too hard to pick the combination."

"I don't even want to know what Sam's dad is doing with a blow dart gun, but I'm under time constraints here, Derek. Our family is killed sometime between 9:15 and 9:22." Casey sighed.

Derek looked down at his watch and before Casey could say anything he said, "So our whole family is dead right now?"

**5:15 P.M.**

After calming Derek down and eating their lunch, the rest of the flight was uneventful. Deciding to scratch the blow-dart theory, they spent the next few hours in silence, each watching separate movies.

They arrived in New York and anxiously went through Customs. Casey looked through the crowd for the older man she'd seen earlier.

Instantly, she whipped out her cell phone and began calling her dad. Frustratingly, his voicemail picked up.

"Dad, it's me. I'm here in New York. There's a man looking for you and I think it could be bad. Something to do with a Joseph Paratore. I'll be at the apartment in no less than thirty minutes." Casey closed her phone and put it in her back pocket.

**5:45 P.M.**

"Miss MacDonald, it's nice to finally meet you." Her dad's cleaner, Sybil, said letting her into the apartment. "I was just leaving but make yourself at home. Mr. MacDonald should be home shortly."

"Where is my dad?" Casey asked.

"He said something about a business meeting." Sybil said putting on her coat.

"Thanks." Casey said. "It was nice meeting you, too."

"And it's nice meeting you, Casey's boyfriend." Sybil said to Derek on her way to the door.

"He's not…" Casey didn't get to finish the sentence before the door shut behind Sybil. "…my boyfriend."

Casey slumped down into her father's plush leather couch.

"I like her." Derek smirked, walking into the kitchen.

"What are you doing?" Casey jumped up and followed Derek into the kitchen.

"Making myself at home." Derek replied, opening the refrigerator. To his dismay, it was nearly empty save for a few old take-out boxes and a six-pack of beer.

"Don't touch anything." Casey said eyeing the beer.

She made her way upstairs, looking for an office—an office with an appointment book.

Derek had thought long and hard about downing a few of the beers in the fridge, but finally shut the door and went to see what else he could get into.

Derek was amazed at the amount of vinyl records that Dennis MacDonald owned and he looked through the records, being a music fan himself, to find something to listen to. Settling on the Beatles' White Album, Derek slipped the record out and lifted it onto the record player.

Noticing that Casey had gotten unusually quiet, he made his way upstairs to find her. She was sitting in a small office desk with tears in her eyes.

"You okay?" He asked from the doorway.

"My dad was infiltrating the _Cani Neri_." Casey said with her hand over her mouth.

"The what?" Derek asked.

"Mafia wannabes." Casey answered.

Derek snorted, "I didn't know we had those in London."

"Derek--" Casey shrieked, throwing down the file she was reading. "Your dad was the prosecutor for the case my dad was working on."

Derek rushed to grab up the discarded file. He skimmed over it quickly.

"They must've found out." Casey said, putting her head in her hands. Dread ate at her stomach causing it to knot up.

"My dad fled to New York, leaving George to receive their wrath." She said, the realization setting in.

"Maybe there's an explanation." Derek said, rubbing Casey's distraught-hunched shoulders. Putting his hatred for Dennis aside, Derek tried to soothe Casey.

"No." Dennis said from the doorway, surprising both teens. "I found an out and I took it."

"How could you?" Casey screamed at him. Derek firmly held Casey's shoulders, keeping her in her seat.

"Casey, I never meant for this to happen. I was only thinking of you and Lizzie when I left. I never knew this would happen." Dennis said, inching his way into the room.

"You never thought of Lizzie and me." Casey sobbed.

"If I could change things, I would." Dennis said, reaching out for Casey's hand.

Casey pulled her hand back, "No, Dad. That's my job."

She stood up from the desk and walked out of the room.

"If it wasn't for her," Derek said to Dennis, "I would've punched you out by now."

Dennis flinched, anger flashing in his eyes. "Try to understand. I did all I could."

"Except warn my dad that the _Cani Neri_ bastards found you out? Instead, you fled Toronto like a dog with its tail between its legs." Derek pushed past Dennis to find Casey.

She was sitting on the couch with her knapsack between her feet.

"Ready to go?" Casey asked him.

Derek went to the kitchen, grabbing the six-pack, shoving it into his own back pack.

"Yeah."

**7:52 P.M.**

The hotel room was nice. The best Dennis MacDonald could afford, even if he didn't know it yet.

"Remind me to send your dad a thank you note." Derek said, dropping his bag by the door. He'd never been inside a presidential suite before and now thanks to Casey's sneaky pilfering, they had the best the hotel had to offer—via Detective Dennis MacDonald—at the tips of their fingers.

Casey ran through the rooms immediately claiming her own. Derek was content with the pull-out sofa.

"Want anything?" Casey said skimming a menu. "I'm calling room service."

"One of everything." Derek said as he switched on the T.V. Kicking off his shoes, he pulled a beer out of his back pack and put the rest in the mini-fridge.

He opened a beer for Casey and handed it to her. She scrunched up her nose, but sipped the dark amber liquid anyway.

"Here's to there being no tomorrow." Derek said, clinking their beer bottles together.

"Here's to my dad being a douche bag." Casey added.

"Here's to New York." Derek said, no longer clinking their bottles together.

"Here's to the Naked Cowboy." Casey said. They'd seen the infamous New York figure in fleeting.

"Here's to us kicking Paratore's ass."

"Yeah," Casey said taking another swallow of the beverage, "Here's to us."

**So, review and let me know what you think so far.**


	5. Day Five

**Daybreak**

**by Nunda**

**/A.N./ **I just wanted to add a few notes in here to clear a few things up. The MacDonald/Venturi's live in **London, **_**Ontario**_ which is a few hours away from **Toronto.** This is in line with the actual series. Much of this story takes place in Toronto b/c that is where this particular gang/mob (Mafia-_wannabes_) did their business, so to speak.

I've changed both professions of George and Dennis. George is a prosecutor where as Dennis is a detective. During the events that led to the "repeating day" Dennis was living in Toronto but fled to New York. I'll explain most of this as the story goes on.

Thanks to all of you guys who reviewed! I love you all!

**Day Five**

**8:31 A.M.**

Feeling unusually groggy, Casey woke up slowly. She cracked open an eyelid and glanced around the room making sure that she was in fact in her own room even though she went to sleep in New York the night previous. She lifted her head feeling dizzy. Unbelievably Casey felt as if she had a hangover—of course Casey couldn't get so lucky as to not feel the after effects of drinking the previous night.

Casey walked downstairs, stepping over Lizzie's skate when an idea came to her—George's study. Since she came to the realization that George had a piece of the puzzle, it was only logical to see if he had any information that could help her stop this endless nightmare.

Running downstairs, Casey turned the light on to George's study. The small room was cramped and unorganized. Casey made a mental note to help George get things organized as soon as she could figure out a way to keep him alive.

Sitting down at his desk, Casey went through all of the paperwork littered on top. Organizing as she went, Casey slowly sifted through the paperwork in the files.

Finding a folder labeled 'Cani Neri' Casey pulled it out. Her eyes became wide at the first document.

"Indictments?"

Joseph Paratore was listed on the document along with many more names that Casey didn't recognize. The most shocking was midway down the list—Michael Carlson.

Casey remembered the graying redhead and suddenly she felt sick. She'd believed him when he said that he respected her dad. And yet his name was on the indictment list for members of the Cani Neri?

Confused, Casey went upstairs to get dressed. She was going to pay a certain Mr. Carlson a visit.

After a quick shower, Casey put the Cani Neri folder and a few other items in her knapsack and locked up the house. Deciding today to take the bus, Casey walked the four blocks to the next bus stop.

Sitting in the seat behind the driver, Casey had a perfect view of all the passengers in the overhead mirror. Sliding down in her seat and putting her knapsack beside her, Casey pulled out Derek's iPod.

She skimmed through his playlists—most of the songs were hockey songs, naturally. She finally settled on something semi-decent and leaned back in her seat, closing her eyes.

**11:15 A.M.**

Feeling a little uneasy, Casey climbed the stairs of the Toronto Police Department. She walked straight to the receptionist and asked to see Detective Carlson.

"Do you have an appointment?" She asked.

"No." Casey shook her head. "Tell him I'm George Venturi's stepdaughter."

The woman nodded her head and picked up the phone, talking in a low whisper.

Casey studied some of the knock-off art work on the walls while she waited. She didn't have to wait long.

"Casey MacDonald?" Carlson appeared at his doorway.

Casey nodded her head, "We need to talk."

They shuffled inside the small office and Casey took a seat across from his desk.

"I'm assuming you've heard about your folks?" He asked, sitting across from her.

Casey nodded, keeping her eyes downcast.

"I'm so sorry about that." He said, sounding sincere. "If there's anything I can do…"

"I need answers." Casey said, not looking up.

"Sure. The guys and I can answer any questions you may have." He said, nervously stacking papers on his desk.

"No." Casey looked him in the eyes. "I need _your_ answers."

Breaking away eye contact, Carlson cleared his throat, "I'm not sure I understand." He said leaning back in his leather chair, "How did you know to come here because I just called your dad before I let you in here and he had no clue you were here."

"What's your affiliation with the Cani Neri?" Casey asked him point blank. She could see him pale.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He said in a low voice.

"You know? Joseph Paratore and the old guy with the expensive watch?" Casey said.

"You have no idea what you are talking about." Carlson said.

"Enlighten me." Casey said, leaning forward. She was not going to let him bluff her out of there.

Carlson stood up, turning his back to Casey.

"I'm not a bad person." He said, sighing. "These people, they pull you in whether you want them to or not. Before you know it, you're up shit creek without a paddle."

He turned to face her again. Angry tears stung her eyes.

"Why my family?" She asked.

Placing his palms down on the desk, he shrugged.

"That I can't tell you kid, because I don't know." He took a pack of cigarettes from his desk, lighting one.

"I just need a lead." Casey said.

"You let me worry about leads." Carlson said. "You need to get to New York with your dad."

Casey shook her head and stood up. "Over my dead body." She said through gritted teeth.

With a hand on Casey's back, Carlson led her out to the lobby.

"Go to New York." He whispered to her.

Casey started to leave him when she turned on her heel suddenly, eyeing the room of officers and detectives.

"If any of you see Joseph Paratore or his boss," She addressed the room full of detectives "Tell them I'm looking for them."

And with that, she stormed from the vicinity. She got halfway down the block when she heard someone screaming her name.

"Miss MacDonald!" A young petite woman with short blond hair ran up to her. Casey stopped and turned around, shielding the sun from her eyes.

"I can't speak long." She said. "My name is Felicia Davenport. I know your father—he's a real nice guy."

Casey snorted in protest.

"The point is," Felicia said. "I think you deserve to be treated with a little more respect."

"All I want is answers." Casey said.

"I've got answers." Felicia looked down at her watch. "Let's say we meet for lunch?"

Casey nodded. Felicia took a pen and scribbled a time and place down on the back of her business card and handed it to Casey.

"Thank you." Casey said meaningfully. She slipped the card in her front pocket.

**3:15 P.M.**

As Casey waited in the café that she'd had lunch with Derek and Sam just a few days earlier, she forced herself not to keep glancing at her watch.

Felicia was running late and it made Casey nervous—what if someone had found out and stopped her from talking to Casey.

Casey shuddered at the thought.

"Can I get you a drink while you wait?" Casey glanced up and recognized the same waitress, Jennifer, from earlier.

"I'll have an iced tea, thanks." Casey responded. Jennifer nodded and disappeared into the kitchen.

"Casey, sorry I'm late." Felicia said, sliding into the seat in front of Casey. She pushed her sunglasses up to the top of her head.

"It's okay." Casey said.

Jennifer set the tea down in front of Casey.

"Can I get you a drink?" She asked Felicia.

"Water, please." Felicia said as she scanned the menu.

As Jennifer turned to leave, her hand brushed Casey's glass. Casey, remembering the mess last time, reacted quickly and grabbed her glass before it spilled onto the floor. Astonished, Felicia looked at Casey expectantly.

"That's great reflexes you've got there." She noted.

"Thanks. I guess it comes from all of those years in dance class." Casey shrugged.

Felicia glanced around the airy café and leaned in closer to Casey and spoke in a low voice.

"What I'm about to tell you could get me fired or worse."

Once again Casey shuddered. They were quiet as Jennifer set Felicia's water glass on the table.

"Have you decided on your order yet?" She asked, pen poised over the notepad.

"What's good here?" Felicia asked Casey, picking up the menu again.

"The burgers are good." Casey said.

"I'll have a burger then." Felicia said decisively. "With the works and fries."

"Me too." Casey said.

As soon as Jennifer left, Felicia pulled out an envelope from her pocket. She slid it across the table.

"In that envelope is the name of a witness that contacted me this morning. There's an address as well. He's willing to talk to you—he has information pertinent as to why your family was targeted."

Jennifer brought out their meals and suddenly Casey didn't feel like eating. She slipped the envelope in her back pocket.

Casey picked at her food while Felicia ate.

"Is my dad involved with the Cani Neri in any way?" Casey asked, dragging a French fry through a mound of ketchup.

"Dennis? No. He hated them. He was trying to get witnesses to come forward so he could finally put them away for a long time. When he could get no one, he decided to become one himself by infiltrating them—which is a very hard thing to do."

Casey nodded, listening intently to Felicia now.

"Someone, within the department I'm sure, got wind of what Dennis was doing and relayed this information on to Ermanno Falaguerra."

"Ermanno?" Casey asked. "Is he in his sixties with gray hair and a really expensive watch?"

"That sounds like him." Felicia said.

Casey nodded her head. So Paratore answered to Ermanno Falaguerra and that was who was on the plane headed to New York.

"It wasn't Carlson was it?" Casey asked. "That told on my dad, I mean."

"I doubt it." Felicia said with a chuckle. "Carlson's too much of a pansy to do anything. Not that he's entirely innocent, mind you. I'm pretty sure he's accepted large chunks of change to look the other way in some instances."

"I saw his name listed on indictment papers in my stepfather, George Venturi's office." Casey said.

"That doesn't surprise me." Felicia said. "The D.A. was pushing hard to prosecute anyone having ever been involved with the Cani Neri—from accepting money to look the other way to running innocent families off the road."

Casey's eyes suddenly filled with tears. "Am I ever going to get justice for my family?"

"I'll make sure of it." Felicia said. For the first time, Casey felt like she could finally trust someone in uniform.

**4:56 P.M.**

Casey tore the envelope open as soon as she left the café and looked at the neatly printed name and address: Josh Brenner, 909 West Arlis Rd Apartment 1412 A.

The apartment was only a few blocks away from the café. Casey pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and called the house in London.

"Derek—listen, I know things are confusing right now but I need you to meet me in the parking lot of the café across from St. Mary's Hospital in Toronto."

"Casey, what's going on?" Derek asked. "Do you even know the day I've been having?"

"Trust me, it's etched in my memory permanently." She said. "Listen, I really need to talk to you. So, if you could be there, please."

Casey stopped in front of a small, two story apartment complex and checked her paper one more time to make sure of the apartment number.

"Okay." Derek said. "I don't even know what you're doing there in the first place."

"I'll explain everything when you get here." Casey said.

Casey hung up the phone and found the apartment on the first level and knocked on the door. She waited patiently as she heard movement coming from within the apartment. The door cracked open.

"Name?"

"I'm Casey MacDonald. Felicia said you would talk to me."

The door slammed shut and Casey could hear the chain lock being pulled open. The door swung open and Casey was pulled inside. The boy looked to be in his early twenties—dark blond hair and brown eyes hidden behind a pair of wire-rimmed glasses. He locked about ten locks before turning to Casey.

"Josh Brenner." He said, sticking a hand out to her.

"I'm Casey, George Venturi's stepdaughter." She shook his hand.

"Funny." Josh said, lifting a blind to scan the parking lot outside. "You introduce yourself as George Venturi's stepdaughter instead of Dennis MacDonald's daughter."

"What's funny about that?" Casey asked, glancing around his dingy apartment. Overturned milk crates acted as furniture—the ones with seat pads Casey presumed to be the "couch" while the ones with plywood on top of them were the "coffee table" and "end tables".

"Most people down here know Dennis more than George, that's all." He said.

Casey took a seat on one of the padded crates and shrugged, "So what do you have to tell me?"

"I can't say much—for your own safety—but I was hired by Joseph Paratore to watch your family."

"You're the one who video taped us!" Casey accused, jumping up.

"Yes, but, I didn't know what for. Joseph said that he was a private investigator and he needed help with filming. He didn't tell me why and I didn't ask."

Josh stood up and walked into the kitchen area that was attached to the living room area.

"Would you like a pop?" He asked, opening his fridge.

"No." Casey shook her head.

"So, this morning Paratore told me to call him when your family left and to follow them."

Casey could feel the lump rising in her throat.

"He made me call him when they got closer to his location and told me that he would take over from there. So I turned back when I noticed him following them but something didn't seem right, so I followed Paratore. I watched as he ran them off the road—I was so disgusted that I'd been tricked into doing something so horrible. I was literally sick to my stomach as I watched the minivan lose control and roll over in the ditch."

"Why didn't witnesses come forward?" Casey asked, appalled.

"They did. Of course, the first officer on the scene conveniently left certain identifying information out of the initial report."

Casey was so mad she could feel her blood rising in her face. She glanced down at the clock on her phone.

"That's all the information I have right now, but I will keep you and Felicia posted, the more I learn."

"Thanks, Josh, for the information. I have to meet my step-brother now." Casey stood up.

He walked her to the door, "I'm sorry I couldn't give you any more."

**6:30 P.M.**

The square truck headlights washed over the parking lot, causing Casey to squint momentarily. She walked over to the truck and Derek got out.

"What's up?" He said, they both leaned against the body of the truck.

Casey took in a deep shaky breath; Derek eyed her with curious concern.

"What happened today to our family was not an accident." She said.

"What do you mean?" Derek asked.

"It was a hit job. The hired hit man was Joseph Paratore. He was hired by Ermanno Falaguerra, mob boss of the Cani Neri."

Derek punched the side of his truck in rage. "How do you know all this?"

"It's a long story." Casey said.

They were interrupted by another flash of headlights, a silver BMW pulled in beside Derek's truck. Stepping out of the car was none other than Joseph Paratore.

"You and I need to have a talk." He said, pointing to Casey.

Frightened, Casey gripped Derek's shirt. "That's him. That's Paratore." She said through gritted teeth.

Derek stepped forward, pushing Casey behind him and said, "She has nothing to say to you."

A silvery flash gleamed under the street lamp and Casey heard three loud pops.

"No!" She yelled, gripping Derek as he stumbled backwards.

"That's what I do to nosy little twits." Paratore growled at Casey. "Just ask your friend Josh."

"Derek!" Casey's concentration was on her stepbrother and she didn't notice Paratore spinning out of the parking lot.

"Help me!" Casey yelled into the empty parking lot for the hopes of someone hearing her. She cradled Derek in her arms—dark red blood covered her arms and chest.

"Just hold on." She told him, his eyes were halfway open.

"Casey…" Derek whispered hoarsely. He was confused—his chest was burning and his vision was dimming like the slowly fading lights at the ice rink after practice every Saturday.

Casey dug into her pocket for her cell phone so she could call an ambulance. Fiercely, she dialed the numbers, and shouted into the phone the address. She stroked Derek's cheek and held him close to her for warmth.

"I'm so sorry." She whispered. Her tears fell, leaving criss-crossing trails in the deep red blood.

His hand gripped hers and gave one final squeeze as Casey heard sirens approaching.

"Derek?" She cried. "No. This can't be happening."

Casey was sobbing loudly as the ambulance pulled up.

**7:56 P.M.**

Casey sat on a bench just outside the hospital. She propped her head up on blood-stained hands. Her tears had long since dried up, and although there was many more to be shed, she physically couldn't do it.

Losing her family had been one thing. It happened so much that Casey had become desensitized to it. The almost guarantee of a new start had given her hope. Now, she didn't know what to think.

The look on Derek's face as he took his last breath had been too much for her. This wasn't supposed to happen. Fear clenched at her heart as she thought of not waking up to a new day after this.

The hospital staff had so many questions. Questions that Casey didn't feel like answering. _How did this happen? Did you know the shooter? Where are your parents? _Casey did, however, give them names. If there wasn't another today, she definitely wanted those responsible dead. They took everything away from her—_everything._

Casey wandered into one of the empty rooms one of the nurses directed her to and laid down on a small cot, instantly falling asleep. Emily appeared in the doorway moments later, looking at her best friend pitifully. She didn't want to wake her but knew that Casey would thank her in the morning—those small beds didn't look comfortable.

"Come on, girl." Emily said, helping Casey to her feet.

"Derek…he…" Casey mumbled. "In my arms…"

"Shh…I know." Emily said soothingly as she fought back her own tears.

Sam was waiting solemnly in the idling car stopped in the hospital's front entrance. Emily helped Casey into the backseat and then climbed in next to her.

"I will undo this." Casey vowed as her friend wrapped an arm around her.

Emily looked worriedly in the rear view at Sam while stroking Casey's hair.

"I will get Derek back and my family back and I will wake up to a new damn day."

"It's okay." Emily said reassuringly. "Rest your eyes until we get home."

**9:45 P.M.**

Sam dropped the girls off in their adjoining driveway only after Emily assured him that she could handle things from there. Emily helped Casey to her front door.

"We're only going in to get you a change of clothes." Emily said sternly, like a mother talking to her child. "You're staying with me tonight."

Casey unlocked the door and went inside. Seeing the flashing light on the answering machine, Casey went to press play. Emily shook her head and went upstairs to get Casey's clothes and toiletries.

Casey skipped through the familiar messages from long, lost relatives and her blood chilled when she heard Derek's voice.

"Hey—it's me. There's some weirdo following me—I'm going to try and lose him." She heard his voice begin to break then he cleared his throat and started again. "I don't know how to fix what happened today, Casey but I want you to know that I'm so sorry. No matter what, we'll be here for each other."

Emily raced down the stairs, looking for the machine. Casey was curled up on the couch crying to herself. Emily found the answering machine and pressed a few buttons to stop Derek's voice.

"Oh, honey, come here." Emily gathered Casey in her arms.

Casey stopped sniffling when she heard Felicia's voice next.

"Casey, this is Felicia. Josh was found dead in his apartment this evening. It is very important that you and your stepbrother leave town. Contact me and I'll give you information on a safe house you can go to for the night."

Emily glanced worriedly at Casey.

"Everything will be better if I could just go to sleep." Casey said.

Emily nodded and helped Casey to her house although she couldn't help but be worried.

**/A.N.2/** Review? Constructive criticism? Sorry this took so long, once again. I have a new job and for the next 21 days I will be working non-stop 8 hour shifts with no days off but I will try to update quicker…I've got part of the next day written so if you have any suggestions, let me know.


	6. Day Six

**Day Break**

By Nunda

/A.N./- Although it doesn't look like it, I've been really busy in Dasey-land. I've got a one shot on the way (maybe two depending on how one turns out.) and a continuation of one of my other one-shots that's going to turn into a two/few-shot (yay!).

So, this is the first Day Break chapter that I didn't start out at exactly 8:31 but I figured that would get very blah after awhile. Besides, this story is almost over. Yay!

**Day Six**

**9:12 A.M.**

Casey walked with determination to Sam's house. She'd woken up at her usual time, still stuck in the same wretched time loop but she couldn't help but feel relieved. Jogging across his lawn, she knocked on Sam's front door and as soon as Sam opened the door, Casey walked straight up the stairs.

Puzzled, Sam warned, "Derek's in there in the shower."

Ignoring him, she kept climbing the stairs and let herself into the bathroom.

"What the hell?" Derek yelled as he secured a towel around his waist. "Casey? What the hell are you doing here?"

Her eyes were filled with tears, and without a word, she embraced him.

"Okay?" He said, his arms hanging limply to his side. "Did my grandma die or something?"

Casey shook her head and wiped the tears away with the back of her hand.

"No." She half-laughed. "I'm just glad to see you."

Derek held a hand up to Casey's forehead. "Are you sick or are you just insane?"

Casey, unfazed by his attempts to insult her—an act she now found endearing, said simply, "Let's go somewhere today."

Derek looked sideways at her, "I knew it. You are insane. You really should get out more. All that glue from all those extra credit projects is getting to you."

Casey smiled at him. He was glancing in the mirror, peering over his skin, as if deciding whether or not to shave.

"Can you give a guy some privacy?" He asked, slightly annoyed and yet slightly curious.

"Blow off practice and come with me." She said, staring at him in the mirror.

"No." He said simply, not even looking at her. He took down a bottle of hair gel and began running it through his hair. "And if you don't leave in fifteen seconds, you're about to see why they really call me Triple D."

He was smirking at her, causing a ripple of shivers to go down her spine.

"I…" Casey opened her mouth, then turned and walked out the door.

"Everything okay?" Sam asked. He was standing in the hallway, curious as to what was going on in the bathroom.

"Yeah, fine." Casey smiled and then, like a light bulb going off, turned on the charm. "Actually…" She walked up to Sam, trailing a finger down his arm, "We have a family thing to deal with. Derek said for you to leave without him and he'll catch up with you later…at practice."

Sam looked at her questioningly. "I don't know." He said, unsurely. Casey was acting strange and something in her behavior told him she was hiding something.

"I'll make sure he locks up." She grinned. _Take the bait, _she thought silently.

Sam's face relaxed, "Okay, Casey."

He grabbed his hockey gear, turned one last time to face her, and walked out the door. While Casey waited on Derek, she sat on the couch, flipping through the TV channels. Sam's cable system sucked. Mr. and Mrs. Marshall were staunch conservatives, and had blocked out all channels except for Discovery Channel and the History Channel.

Derek walked out of the bathroom, with confusion clearly written all over his face.

"Where's Sam?" He asked, sitting on the couch next to Casey to put his shoes on.

"I told him we had family stuff to take care of and that he should go on without you." She said, flipping off the TV.

Derek blew out an angry sigh, "Why would you _ever_ do that?"

"Let's just say I've had one hellish week." Casey said.

"And I care because…?" He stood up, putting on a jacket and grabbed his hockey bag.

"Last night, I saw you get shot three times." Casey said softly as she studied the carpet. "I have never been more scared in my life."

"It was just a dream, Case. Twisted, that's for damn sure."

"You died in my arms, Derek." She continued as if he hadn't said anything. "Your blood was all over my clothes and stained my hands."

Derek sat back down next to her on the couch. "You really have a sick mind, Casey. And very _detailed_ dreams."

"We've lived together for this long." Casey said. "And we don't know much about each other."

"Casey?" Derek said. Casey finally looked up at him. "Snap out of it. You're starting to scare me."

She shook her head. "I cannot snap out of this until you agree to humor me just this once and come with me. Who knows, maybe we'll have fun."

Derek looked at her curiously, as if he was really deciding to take her up on her offer. Casey took out her credit card and dangled it in front of him.

"Anywhere you want to go." She said enticingly.

"Dave and Busters on Eleventh Avenue?" Derek asked.

"I was thinking more along the lines of Miami." Casey said as Derek's eyebrows shot up.

"Miami, Florida? As in the States?" Derek was baffled. He'd never been anywhere (to his knowledge) outside of Ontario, much less the country.

Casey nodded.

"Sold." Derek said, thinking about all the girls on the beaches in string bikinis. "I just need to stop by the house and pack a bag."

"No need." Casey said. "I took care of it for you."

"What about Nora and my dad?" Derek asked on his way out to the truck.

"Silly boy." Casey said. "Of course I made sure they're okay with it first." Casey felt a pang of guilt. "They want us to have a good time. After all, we deserve it."

**2:13 P.M.**

London, Ontario and Miami, Florida were worlds apart as far as Casey was concerned. The bright sun was warm on their backs as they crossed the parking lot for their hotel.

"How come I got stuck with all the stuff?" Derek asked as he followed behind Casey holding both of their bags. "And why does your bag weigh a ton when it's smaller than mine?"

"Quit complaining, Derek." Casey said, looking over her confirmation papers as she walked. "Go ahead and find room 3114. I'll be up in a minute with the keycards."

Derek rolled his eyes but obliged.

Casey strolled over to the lobby desk while Derek struggled to get into the elevator. What did Casey have in her bag, anyway? Cement? With a loud thump, he threw the bag down on the elevator floor and leaned against the wall.

"Wait!" He heard a female voice call out just as the doors were about to close. "Hold the elevator!"

Derek quickly pushed the door open button and his jaw nearly hit the floor. Dressed in short cut-offs and a bikini top was the most gorgeous girl he'd ever seen.

"Thanks." She said.

"No problem." Derek smirked. No problem at all, he thought.

"I'm Mandy." She drawled.

"Derek."

"You're not from around here, huh?" She pulled her long, just-back-from-the-beach, chocolate brown hair off her shoulders. For a moment Derek was mesmerized.

"Yeah. I mean, no. Ontario, London." Then sheepishly he recanted, "London, Ontario. In Canada."

"That's a long ways away." She said. "You here with a girlfriend?"

Derek shook his head, "I'm here with my Casey. I mean, Casey, my sister—stepsister!!"

Mandy gave him a wide smile as the doors jolted open. "See you later, Derek. Hope you have a good time in Miami."

Derek struggled back out of the elevator and started walking down the hallway, reading the numbers on the door.

"Twenty-one hundred? Twenty-one hundred and two?" Derek read aloud as he walked down the halls. "What the hell?"

It was then, he realized in embarrassment that he'd followed Mandy out the elevator without checking to see what floor they were on. Setting the bags in the floor, he drug them over to the elevator.

"I have reservations for Casey MacDonald." Casey stepped up to the lobby desk.

The pleasant looking red-headed woman typed into her computer.

"Ah, yes, Ms. MacDonald. I need some identification and then you'll be set. Everything was already paid for online."

Casey nodded and dug her passport out of her purse.

"Let me know if you need anything further." The woman said handing Casey two keycards.

"Thanks."

"Derek! Get out of the bathroom!" Casey pounded on the bathroom door. "I need to change into my bikini! And are you talking to yourself?"

"Hey, Mandy." Derek said into the mirror. "What's up? 'Sup, Mandy? Hey, Mandy, how's it going?" Derek shook his head, "This is stupid."

He flung the door open, coming face to face with an angry Casey. She pushed him out of the way and slammed the bathroom door. She immerged a few minutes later in a pale lavender bikini, white shorts, and an unbuttoned button-up shirt.

"Wow." Derek said, before he could stop himself. Casey beamed at him, so he added, "I feel sick. Button that shirt up, why don't you?"

Casey's face fell. "I will not." She said, indignantly. "Now, let's just get to the beach while we still have daylight left."

"We still have all day tomorrow." Derek said, following her to the door.

Casey shook her head. There was no use in ruining his day by telling him there wouldn't be a tomorrow.

"I can't believe my dad and Nora agreed to this." Derek exclaimed as they got into the elevator.

"You c-can't?" Casey asked nervously.

"No, it's awesome!"

Casey let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding.

"Yeah, awesome." Casey echoed, feeling guiltier than ever. Somehow, she felt like she was missing something that could save her family. It had been nagging at her all morning. She had been too worried about Derek to listen to that little nagging voice.

When they got off at the elevator, Derek greeted a pretty brunette standing by the main desk. Casey rolled her eyes. Typical Derek.

"Hey Mandy." He strolled up to her in his most come hither gait and used his deepest, sexy voice.

"Derek, hey." Mandy said. She smiled at him but continued looking around the lobby. Casey knew that look—she was waiting on someone. But not just any someone, THE someone. Deciding that Derek needed to learn his lesson, Casey kept her mouth shut, arms firmly across her chest, and watched the events unfold.

"So, I'm headed to the beach. Want to come with?" Derek said, smoothly, leaning in towards her.

"No, thanks." Mandy smiled tight-lipped. "I just got back from the beach. I'm about to go out for a bite."

"Cool. I'm starving too. How about we go somewhere together?"

"Um…" Mandy said uncomfortably.

"Ready to go, Babe?"

Derek slowly turned around to see what could've easily been a Greek god—blond hair, tall, and muscular staring down at him.

"Derek, this is Rob. My boyfriend, Rob." She said. Then told Rob, "Derek and his sister are visiting from Canada."

"Welcome to Miami." Rob said, with a clap on Derek's back that nearly sent him tumbling to the floor.

"Thanks." Derek said hoarsely, clutching his bruised shoulder.

"See you later." Mandy said to Derek then grabbed Rob's hand as he led her outside.

"Don't." Derek said as Casey walked up to him grinning. "Not a word."

"What?" Casey said, trying to appear innocent. "Me? Say anything?"

Derek grumbled as he walked with Casey to the back exit of the hotel—the direction of the beach.

"Come on, Romeo."

Derek glared at her, "I said…"

"I know, I know. That's all, I promise."

**4:30 P.M.**

The sand was warm but comfortably so. Casey spread out her beach towel and dug her toes down in the white-as-snow sand. Derek headed straight for the water, diving right in. He motioned for Casey to join him.

Casey shook her head and explained, "I'm working on my tan!"

"Work on it out here!" He yelled back at her.

When she continued to just sit there, he jogged over to her and promptly picked her up, carrying her to the ocean's edge.

"Put me down!" Casey yelled. She couldn't help but to giggle.

"You want down?" Derek asked as he waded out into the water.

"Yes!" Casey shrieked.

Derek grinned evilly as he threw her into the surf. Casey appeared a few seconds later, sputtering and soaking wet.

"Payback time." She said, chasing after him. They both were laughing as they sluggishly ran through the water, headed towards the beach. Derek reached Casey's beach towel first and plopped down on it.

"Derek! That's my towel!" Casey protested. Derek responded by sticking his tongue out at her.

When he refused to move, she grabbed his towel, spread it out next to him and laid down on it.

"I got something for you at the snack bar." Casey said to Derek.

She propped up on one elbow when he didn't respond to see what had his attention. Following his gaze, Casey spotted four girls in bikinis tossing around a Frisbee. Seizing the opportunity before her, Casey leaned in gently to Derek's ear.

"DEREK!"

Casey laughed as Derek jumped straight up, glaring at Casey.

"What the hell?" He asked as he rubbed his ear.

"You weren't listening to me." Casey said matter-of-factly.

Derek looked at her in disbelief.

"I'm so sorry that I'm a normal, red-blooded guy." He said as he sat back down on his towel. His eyes washed over Casey's bikini-clad body sprawled out before him. He felt his cheeks go crimson as he realized that she caught him looking at her.

"So." Casey said, clearing her throat, "Like I was saying, I got you something from the snack bar while you were in the restroom. It's in my beach bag."

Derek leaned over and rummaged through her bag and pulled out a yellow box.

"Dots?" He said as she nodded. "These are my favorites."

"I know." Casey smiled.

"You're being too nice." He said, almost cautiously.

"I also picked out all the green ones for you because I heard they taste like puke." Casey felt very proud of herself.

Derek stopped chewing on one of the red ones and looked at her.

"Okay, now I know something's wrong, so spill."

"Nothing's wrong." Casey said with a fake laugh. "Why would there be?"

"Normal Casey would've picked out all of them _but _the green ones." He answered.

"I don't know." Casey said, absentmindedly brushing sand off of her towel. "Maybe it's just the sun that's making me feel all giddy."

"Giddy?" Derek asked, laughing. "Casey MacDonald is giddy?"

"Okay, maybe that's not the right word." Casey paused to think. "Care free, maybe?"

"How care free?" Derek's eyebrows shot up.

Casey sunk down deeper into her towel. With her eyes closed she contemplated his question.

"I could just stay here forever." She mumbled.

Derek shook his head at her in disbelief. He watched as her eyes danced around beneath her closed eyelids. Clearly there was a lot on her mind. From behind him, the Frisbee flew overhead and landed two feet from his towel. Glancing to make sure Casey was napping; he grabbed the Frisbee and jogged over to the group of girls.

"Lose something?" He grinned.

**5:28 P.M.**

Casey's eyes fluttered open and it took her a minute to realize she was still on the beach in Miami, Florida. She dozed off for a few minutes and although she couldn't remember her dreams, there was one name on the tip of her tongue.

"Brenner." She said suddenly, fully awake now that she realized what had been bugging her all day. "I have to talk to Josh Brenner."

Casey jumped up, grabbing both her and Derek's beach towels and her bag. She scanned the beach for her step-brother, not believing that he just left her to bake in the sun—sure, she'd wanted to tan but not get crispy. She glanced over her skin and realized she hadn't been asleep long as her skin was only slightly pink. She found Derek in the center of the four Frisbee girls and rolled her eyes.

Marching up to him, grabbing him by the arm, and pulling him away, Casey said, "We have to go."

Derek wrenched his arm free of Casey's grasp. "Are you crazy? I was about to get their numbers!"

"I have to make phone calls of my own, thank you." She hastily responded, sand flying in every direction as she power walked across the beach.

"And I have to be there while you call some lame brain, because why?" He asked.

Casey stopped and turned to glare at him.

"You know what? You're right!" She said, sarcasm dripping from every word. "You're a big boy, now. You can find your own way back to the room. So why don't you go back to your four no brain beach bunnies?"

"Beach bunnies?" Derek snickered. "Is Casey jealous?"

"Jealous of what? That my IQ isn't the same number as my shoe size?" Her hands were firmly planted on her hips now.

Derek rolled his eyes and continued walking in the direction of the hotel.

"What?" Casey called, jogging after him. "No comeback?"

"Apparently this call means a lot to you." He said, flatly. "Just this once, I'll let you get your way."

Casey grinned. Derek was turning into a softie.

"But don't get used to it." He spat.

Casey nodded, still grinning.

**5:41 P.M.**

"Felicia Davenport? Hi, this is Casey MacDonald. I need a favor."

Derek listened to Casey's side of the phone conversation as flipped through TV channels from his bed.

"I need a phone number for Josh Brenner."

Slightly interested, Derek wondered who Felicia and Josh were. Maybe they went to J.S. Thompson High with him and Casey. Derek smirked as he thought of Casey's nerdy friends. He watched as she scribbled seven digits on one of the hotel's logo-emblazoned notepads.

Casey hung up the phone and stared at the number as if studying it. Curiously, Derek watched her. Maybe she was trying to talk herself into calling him.

"Why don't you just call him?" Derek finally said.

"I can't. Not today. It wouldn't do any good." Casey explained. "I'll call him in the morning. I just have to memorize the number."

Derek watched ESPN and was annoyed that there was no mention of hockey. There was a brief score that ran across the bottom of the screen on ticker tape. But on the screen was pre-game baseball stuff.

"We need to celebrate." Casey said from her bed next to him. Suddenly she jumped up and hugged Derek.

"Are you on drugs?" Derek asked her. "You haven't been drinking any strange drinks, have you?"

Casey pulled away from him and looked like she wanted to burst into laughter.

"I know how to fix things." She exclaimed. "Everything can finally go back to normal."

"Again, with the crazy talk." Derek said.

"All I have to do is call Josh and tell him not to call Paratore." Casey was talking more to herself—thinking out loud, if you will. But Derek was utterly confused.

"So what are we celebrating?" Derek asked, trying to get the conversation back onto partying.

"We're celebrating new beginnings." Casey jumped up and went to the small closet and ruffled through her clothes. She turned and looked at Derek, who was still sprawled out on his bed. "Get dressed."

**7:05 P.M. **

On the recommendation of Mandy, whom they'd spotted in the lobby again, Derek and Casey took a cab to a nice restaurant downstairs. Stepping inside, Casey gasped.

The soft lit restaurant was off set by romantic red lights illuminating each cozy table.

"I did tell her we were step-sibs." Derek said, almost as if he was questioning himself. "Why would she send us here?"

"Who cares?" Casey sighed. "It's gorgeous."

Derek shrugged. Casey had been in an infinitely better mood since that phone call to Felicia.

"I guess it's okay as long as they have good food—I'm starved."

The hostess smiled and showed them to a table near the back.

"Look, Derek!" Casey exclaimed, pointing to the balcony. There were a few more tables on the balcony but the main thing that caught Casey's attention was the three-piece acoustic band playing their renditions of current popular ballads.

"You want to sit outside?" The hostess smiled.

"Yes." Casey answered before Derek could strike her down.

Once settled at their new table, Casey leaned back into her chair, drinking in the atmosphere and soft music. Derek groaned at the guy on the stage who was, in his opinion, ruining the guitar by playing it.

"I could do so much better." Derek whispered to Casey.

"Please." She said, rolling her eyes. "I've heard you sing."

Derek pretended to be hurt. "I know I'm not the best singer in the world but I was talking about with the guitar."

Casey nodded.

"I'll give you that." She said, remembering the few nights ago when he played his guitar for her, lulling her to sleep. His singing voice wasn't that bad when he actually sung to her, Casey remembered. He had thought she couldn't hear him because he was singing so low. Back in his D-Rock days, Derek would scream into the mic, causing those who weren't deaf wish that they were.

"It's a good song." Casey noted. Derek nodded in agreement as he listened to the watered down version of Staind's "Everything Changes".

"If we could just make it through/the toughest part of the day." Casey repeated. "I now all about that."

"What?" Derek asked, slightly offended. "I thought we've been having a nice day so far."

"Yes." Casey said. "It was just a personal thing."

"Oh." Derek said drumming his fingers on the table. "So…where's the waiter? I'm hungry."

As "Everything Changes" faded out, the band started playing Eve 6's "Here's to the Night". Casey glanced at the couples on the dance floor, swaying together to the song.

"You want to…I mean, we might as well have a dance before the waiter gets here." Casey said, not meeting Derek's eyes. He surprised her by holding out his hand to her.

They danced to the song, which thankfully was not too slow. Every once in a while, Casey would spin underneath Derek's arm, her skirt fluttering out around her. After the song ended, they were laughing as they took their seats.

The waiter came shortly afterwards and took their order.

**9:45 P.M.**

After showering, Casey sat on her bed, brushing out her damp hair and staring out the window. She could hear Derek's shower running and wondered if he was feeling as confused as she was. Of course, she's been seeing a different side of Derek for the last six days. As far as he was concerned, they've only spent this one day together. Casey held her head in her hands as she realized she was beginning to like Derek.

As if on cue, Derek stepped out of the bathroom, enveloped in steam. Using a towel, he quickly dried his hair, throwing the towel in the corner.

"Today's been one long day." Derek said.

Casey suppressed a laugh, "You're telling me."

"Goodnight, Case." Derek said with his hand on the lamp between their bed.

"Derek…" Casey grabbed his arm.

"Wha—"

Casey cut him off with a kiss—a soft, innocent kiss on the lips.

"What was that?" Derek said when he pulled away from Casey.

Casey smiled mysteriously.

"I'll tell you in the morning." She said, knowing full well that she didn't have to worry about explaining herself in the morning.

Derek shook his head, "I can't wait until the morning."

He turned the light off but even in the dark, Casey could see him smiling to himself.


End file.
